


Champagne Papi

by distefanos



Category: Football RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-09
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-29 10:48:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 32,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3893563
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distefanos/pseuds/distefanos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The drought was the very worst, when the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst.</p><p>This ship will be the death of me - Starting with October International break 2014</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Isco promised himself he'd never approach Álvaro first. The rejection he got regularly from him was enough, he didn't need to make things more awkward. He already couldn't help brushing hands as their feet drag across the sand and the sun beats down and sweat dapples Morata's temples. The scar across his brow bright and whiter in the rays of light. Linking a finger with Álvaro's for just a second before he pulls away. Cameras are always watching them. Isco doesn't care enough. Morata cares too much.

He never said a word when during the first days Álvaro would wear the orange shirt everywhere. When they skyped he'd be wearing it, as if he just came from training, as if he didn't drive home dressed his best then put it back on again when he got there. It didn't have to be said that he needed it to get used to his new colours. Instead he told him how good he'll look scoring in the striped kit. Álvaro smiled shyly but then pretended Pablo was waiting on the other line, like the line was a physical one he could draw that separated their friendship from other things that happened.

There was one 3am moment when maybe he could have got away with it. With a kiss, a soft touch, pull him close for just long enough, just to see how he'd react. Álvaro Morata at his door the night he returned to Madrid on injury. Quiet and sad and looking more than a little lost. Like he wasn't sure how he had ended up on Isco's doorstep at this hour but the way his lips turned up a bit in a lopsided grimace said he was glad he had. Isco hadn't said a word, he'd just hugged him while his hand was still nervously ruffling his hair. He went still, but then he wrapped his arms around Isco in a way he wasn't sure was friendly, pressed his nose into Isco's bed hair, breathed him in like a few days apart had made him forget the scent of him, like it had scared him to forget it. In retrospect, he probably could have kissed him, but some part of him is glad he didn't. Maybe Álvaro didn't need someone clawing at his clothing just then, he needed someone to let him in and make him feel safe, and the way the happiness managed to touch his eyes despite leaning on the side of the house to steady himself and the rumours that reached them even there in the dark, that his spell at Juventus was already a flop made it seem like the best decision in the world. And then again when they said goodbye. "Forza Álvaro! Forza Juve!" Isco had mumbled quietly, laughing in spite of himself. Álvaro's eyes had crinkled into a beautiful smile that made Isco forget about the bitter taste the idea of Álvaro anywhere else but this city left in his mouth. "Just take things a bit slower, you'll get there." He told him. Álvaro looked away at that, hid the fear from Isco. That was when Isco was truly glad he hadn't kissed him, when he wasn't willing to share that moment. The goodbye was less than the hello, and Isco tried to shake from his mind the count until the next time they'd see each other.

When he got home there was a note on his kitchen counter, the same counter they had sat at until the sun rose, huddled around warm tea and warmer words. He wasn't expecting it to say a lot, and it didn't, but the size of the page made it seem like there was much he didn't say.

Hugs - Álvarito

He never said a word as he sprawled across his bed and listened to Álvaro complain of Turin, the husky tones to his voice that Isco wanted to stir, knew that with the right words he could turn these unending sentences to soft keening noises, feel Álvaro's desire for him from hundreds of miles away. But he just made assenting noises in the right places and rolled over onto his stomach, kicked his foot over the edge of the bed and rested his head across his outstretched arm. Álvaro just kept talking.

It got to a point where he started to believe that one time in the locker room Morata was so horny he decided for a second that all that mattered was that Isco would let him in. That he just wanted to have some fun at the Ciudad, the place he had called home for so long, before he left for a long long time. He started to forget the night he thought would be the first night. The feeling of Álvaro, drunk on champagne and victory and la decima, pressing his forehead into Isco's shoulder when everyone else was half asleep and mumbling something that sounded awfully like everything Isco had wanted to hear. He forgot his own arm wrapped around Morata's waist, his lips against his hair. Moments that were over so quickly he thinks maybe he was just drunk. That Álvaro had swayed against him, mumbled a clumsy apology and Isco had wanted it to be something else so his memory made it so.

Less than 3 months was all it took to start believing that, but it only took an instant for it all to rush back to him.

The instant: Álvaro's wide smile at the sight of him, eyes bright with the emotion and desire he reserves for the most vulnerable moments, when something inside him slips up and he just wants Isco to see him. As he is. They embrace, it's clumsy and Álvaro hardly seems to pay attention as he hugs Isco loosely to his side and words are already pouring from him like they haven't been speaking nearly every night in his absence, like he has a million things to tell him. And Isco just laughs like he always does and falls into the rhythm of him.

"One day, Isco, we'll win the World Cup together, you and I." Isco has heard a lot of people say that Álvaro does not have much to say and it makes him feel like he saves all of his words up just for him. Isco replied with a non-committal noise and a signature grin. His smile came so easy standing so close to him. They sit next to each other on the plane and Álvaro keeps him awake the whole time with stories then a movie then more stories. Like he's afraid if he stops talking the thread between them will break.

They got on an elevator alone in the hotel and Álvaro let one of his bags fall to the floor. He ran a hand through Isco's hair, his face turned a colour to match his jacket and he quickly busied himself with rearranging his bags. When he straightened Isco nudged him playfully in the side.

"Your hair is so thick now." Was the only response he got. They stood a bit awkwardly in the hallway before Álvaro grunted, "How's Junior?" Isco cocked an eyebrow at him, causing Álvaro to laugh at himself and draw back a step, half raising an arm in protest to Isco's reaction.

"That's what you want to ask me?" 

"I don't know what you mean." Álvaro stopped in front of the door matching his key and popped it open. He shoved his bags through the door and slammed it shut again, following Isco down the hall towards his own room.

"3 months worth of phone calls and you've never asked me that." Isco chides. He's not hurt, not really. Morata is silenced by this. They stop outside Isco's room. Morata toes the carpet where the red fibres have frayed in collision with the panel wall.

"I feel weird. Seeing you again." Álvaro mutters at the loose carpeting. Isco doesn't even bother tossing his bags in his room. He drops them on the floor and steps closer to Álvaro.

"What the fuck. Why?" 

"I don't know." He said, but he took Isco's hand and placed it over his chest where his heart tattooed a frantic beat and he looked at Isco and Isco still couldn't say a word. He swallowed hard and finally let some words escape.

"What changed?" Half of Isco wanted to throw himself on Álvaro, take advantage of the situation, but most of himself was planted on the spot. His heart beat as frantically as Álvaro's and he was completely thrown off by the affection suddenly being switched around.

"I don't know, you're making me nervous." Álvaro smiled then, like a boy about to kiss a girl for the first time, like he wanted to bury his head in the sand, and the colour in his cheeks and the way he didn't even try to conceal the affection softening his gaze made a giggle bubble past Isco's lips. And then Isco's tongue was between his teeth and his grin turned wicked.

"You missed me!" He laughed, too loud, echoing across the empty corridor. Álvaro's face darkened and he dropped Isco's hand but the grin stayed there. It wasn't yes exactly, but it was. And then he was on Isco, pinning him to the wall in a way that felt too familiar for having happened only once before. Álvaro's body and the way it moved was familiar to him, and this was an extension of rough play on the pitch.

"Didn't you miss me too?" Morata asked him, lips brushing Isco's ear. This time, the confidence didn't falter, he felt Isco's body react to the proximity. Isco probably should have been embarrassed by the way his voice sounded distant and dragging as he replied.

"You know that I do." Álvaro ran his hand through Isco's hair again, watched himself do it like he'd been wanting to all along but had stopped himself. Isco rubbed his hands across Álvaro's stomach over his shirt. Álvaro yanked his shirt up and pressed Isco's hand against hot skin.

"I want you." He murmured against Isco's collarbone.

"Not here." Isco bit back a groan as he moved off the wall only to be pressed harder into it, only for Álvaro's desire to press a hard kiss against his throat.

"I want you right now." Álvaro said quieter still, his voice a hum against Isco's throat. He breathed in and out 3 times, fought internally with the idea of yanking clothes down right now. One hand found Álvaro's hard cock pressing against his thigh. When he rubbed up against it Álvaro's pressed his knee against the wall so that his own thigh pressed against the heat between Isco's legs. His forehead leaned against Isco's and he laughed breathily against Isco's whiskers. Isco smiled back. 

"Not here." He said again, and with a nod Morata finally agreed. Isco fumbled with his key in the lock and Álvaro scooped his bags up in one arm and half push, half lifted them into the room. Isco entered first and stood awkwardly in the middle of the suite. He was still waiting for the moment that Álvy decided none of this was happening. But instead of looking nervous or scared or like he was making a huge mistake, Álvaro was eyeing him hungrily, advancing towards him like an animal who has caught it's prey in it's gaze and wasn't letting go without a fight. He held Isco by his wrists but instead of leading him to the bed he pushed him up against the wall again. The stucco pattern of it pressed against his back at the point his shirt rode up where it met his pants. At first Álvaro smoothed it down but then he stripped it off entirely, pressing into Isco's chest as soon as it was bare. He kissed him then, deep and open and his tongue shoving right into Isco's throat, almost making him choke.

Isco kissed back, wrapped his arm around Álvaro's waist and tugged at his shirt, felt that he was unfairly twice as dressed as he was. Without much help Álvy lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it to the floor. Isco pressed his hands against bare skin, first his palms then the back of his hands, cooling them there. Then Álvaro was reaching for his cock, he pulled it out and held it in his hand and pressed it against his stomach so that the soft underside brushed against his treasure trail.

"You like me, Isco?" He asked between kisses against Isco's neck.

"Mhmm." Isco muttered in response, eyes fluttering closed as he enjoyed the sensation of rubbing off against Morata's hard stomach. "I like you a lot, Álvaro." He said unthinkingly. Álvaro carefully pulled Isco's pants and boxers down over his thighs and did the same with his own, pressing his hard cock against Isco's own. He was clearly enjoying how easy it had been to pull Isco apart. _I'll give him this one time,_ Isco thought to himself, for it was too easy to let these sensations get away from him.

"Turn over," Álvaro said, it was more of a request than an order, but Isco obeyed immediately. Once again he was surprised with how Álvaro was a man who carried lube on him when one slicked up finger curled around his entrance, causing him to push his ass out to encourage entry. Álvaro pushed it in and in the same motion pulled Isco up against him. "You got tested at the beginning of the season yes?" Isco nodded in response. Morata understood. "So did I. So it would be safe, yes?" Isco didn't answer for a moment. "It would feel so good to be inside you without anything." Álvaro pressed on, at the same time pushing another finger into Isco, scissoring his fingers to loosen him up. Isco groaned and pushed back into him. 

"So we are both clean then." He muttered, and Álvaro crooked a finger in response, making Isco tense up in surprise.

"Yes, Isco. I want to feel myself inside you." Álvy was pressing up against him, clearly really ready to go. 

"Fuck me," Isco said, looking up at Álvaro then with wild eyes. Álvaro gazed back for a second before kissing him passionately as he lined himself up with Isco's entrance. He pushed in, slowly, thrusting shallowly in and out a few times while Isco thrust into the movement. He eased himself all the way in and pressed deep with a moan before pulling back again. His eyes were squeezed shut tight and his teeth were clenched like he wanted to bite something.

Isco pushed Álvaro's head against his shoulder and moaned encouragingly. Álvaro opened his mouth over that same spot but didn't bite down.

"I've never done it without protection before," He said. Holding completely still, poised on the edge after just a few thrusts. "It feels so fucking good with you." Isco wiggled just the smallest bit and Álvaro moaned and jolted backwards to try to hold back the sensation that was crinkling his brows. 

"I want you to come." Isco told him. Giving him permission to fuck like all that mattered was the orgasm building at the base of his cock. Even so, Álvaro arched up a bit to press against Isco's spot, he reached a hand around to grope Isco loosely and Isco rutted into the movement, which only provoked an embarrassing sound from Álvaro as he pressed deep and held Isco as tight as he possibly could for a second before he was thrusting franctically up into him, sometimes hitting the spot, sometimes not, his loose grip on Isco's cock pulling small noises from him but not enough friction to push him over the edge. The way Álvaro's hips were stuttering though made him want to come just then. He felt him tense inside him and the sensation of him spurting inside of him, the small noise he made as a thumb pressed hard against one of Isco's nipples. Then he was breathing deep and rubbing both hands up Isco's sides.

When he pulled out Isco turned to face him, panting and leaning against the wall.

"Did you, ahh-- you know?" Álvaro asked him, his cheeks a bit red from the physical movement. Isco stared him straight in the eye as he jerked himself off.

"Almost," he said when he felt close. Álvaro eyed him hungrily, he looked sated but still really turned on. Him standing there with his pants just above his knees brought Isco over the edge. He half moaned, half laughed throatily as he came and caught it up in his hand and went to the bathroom to wipe up. Álvaro did the same in the bedroom and he heard him sink down onto the bed.

"We just fucked." He said as Isco crossed the room to join him on the bed.

"Yes." Isco agreed. He laid down and pulled his knees up toward his chest, as he was pulling the covers over himself Álvaro tucked himself around Isco. Isco scooted backwards and Morata tucked the comforter around them both.

"We should do it again soon." Álvaro said, pressing kisses into Isco's neck. Isco closed his eyes and sank into the warmth of Álvaro against him.

"Okay, just give me a minute." Álvy shifted against him as they both drifted off to sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

The third time they ever had sex it was slow and deep and overwhelming. It was the morning after the second time and half asleep, Álvaro had rolled over on top of Isco and kissed him awake. When Isco wrapped his legs around Álvaro's waist he had thrust inside him, all the way in on the first thrust so that Isco arched his back before relaxing back into the bed. After that they both shut their eyes and drifted a little as Álvaro found a rhythm and pushed slowly, making soft sounds as he became more and more sensitive. Isco came first, his body jerked and then he was spilling between their stomachs. Álvaro didn't change his rhythm at all, just kissed Isco deep as his orgasm built and crested between his legs and Isco reached his arms up around Álvaro to hold him closer. Álvaro bit his lip lightly as he came, a high pitched noise in the back of his throat as he felt Isco tighten around him and the feeling became almost too much. He collapsed on top of him then. They lay there breathing in the morning light for a time before Álvaro pulled out and headed for a shower. Isco dozed on his back while he waited for the shower to be free.

When Isco came out of the shower Álvaro was sprawled on the desk chair, chewing at the corner of a piece of toast. He met Isco's eyes and smiled idly, his eyes distant as if he was figuring something out in his head. His white shirt was wrinkled at the edges from travel and sun was caught in the flick of his hair. Isco perched on the edge of bed and adjusted his watch.

"Room service served you breakfast." Álvaro said, gesturing to a tray on the desk. Isco padded over and leaned across him to grab the second piece of toast. Álvaro framed his hips in his hands and pulled Isco lightly so he was sitting on his lap. "I told them I was Francisco Alarcon." He said, a smile in his tone.

"Then I should go to your room to receive your breakfast." Isco replied. He wedged his fork into an egg and scooped up a piece but somewhere on its way to his mouth Álvaro grabbed his hand redirected the fork to his own. Isco grinned and cut another piece of egg, this time his fork was uninterrupted on its journey to his mouth. He lifted off Álvaro's lap and draped himself over an upholstered chair near the television. Álvaro lapsed back into a thoughtful silence.

Isco waited patiently for Álvaro to turn his attention to him, in the interim taking in Álvaro's appearance. He looked completely relaxed and at home at the desk of Isco's hotel suite the morning after, something Isco would never have imagined mere days ago. Something in his expression seemed softer somehow, like all the time Isco had known him something had been building up inside him, but last night he had finally let it out. He wasn't sure the change had as much to do with him, it was something about Morata overall that was different. He wondered briefly if it was Italy that had changed him. And then something clutched in his chest as he wondered if there was someone else who had changed him.

Álvaro frowned at the expression on Isco's face before pulling himself to his feet with his hands on his thighs. Barefoot, he crossed the room to the sliding glass balcony door.

"I don't think my room has a balcony!" He said, real annoyance colouring his tone. Isco reached a hand out to stop Álvaro from closing the screen and stepped over the threshold onto the balcony behind him. Álvaro leaned across the railing, lining his forearm with the cool metal. He squinted his eyes against the sun as it rose over steeples and small houses packed tightly in rows. The highway snaked out towards them, as if they were the heart of the city and not it's outer limit.

"How would you know if your room has a balcony." Isco replied slyly. He wedged a foot between the metal bars of the balcony and pushed up against the barrier, leaning over the side and turning his head to face Álvaro. Morata continued to stare out over Zilina.

"I went to my room, stupid. Where do you think I got clothes." Isco didn't dignify that with a response except to shove his fist lightly up into one of Álvaro's ribs. He wriggled away from him a little but otherwise didn't react. Something pulled down the corners of his mouth.

"Can I ask again?" Isco said quietly. He didn't answer for a moment, but then he nodded. "What changed?"

Álvaro finally turned to look at him then, and he grinned shyly and there was a softness in his eyes that made Isco's heart drum in his chest and it was something akin to fear. He smiled back at him and felt his cheeks redden a little. Álvaro rested his hand over Isco's on the railing, trailed a finger over the soft, fleshy spot above his thumb. He felt so naked, them standing there in the sun looking out over a city and holding hands for the whole world to see and Álvaro smiling like the whole world as in his gaze. And it made him so joyous to see it there within reach. Isco heaved a sigh and dragged his eyes away from Álvaro to gather his thoughts. He felt dizzy.

"I guess I just realized that the most important thing in life is working to achieve what you want. Everything else you can work out later." Álvaro said, his voice husky and quiet, cracking a bit on the intones. Isco rested his chin on their hands.

"What does that have to do with me?"

"Isco." Álvaro said, and his tone, so forceful and determined, made Isco turn to look at him. "You're what I want. One of the things I want. I just never knew how to express it. I was always scared." Isco smiled wide then, at first he basked in the affection, let the intensity of Álvaro's gaze wash over him. Then he let his own gaze drop off into something goofier, let it disguise the fear that was slowly threading it's way through his bloodstream, pumping into his heart and blowing out his pupils as he considered one of many things he could say back. He didn't say any of them.

"So sweet, I'm so moved, Álvy." Isco said sarcastically. Even though he meant it. Álvaro clutched Isco by both his shoulders and shook him a little.

"Shut up, I'm trying to say something nice here." He laughed then, hugging Isco against him. Isco let himself be hugged.


	3. Chapter 3

The next night Álvaro felt a million miles away. He came to Isco's room without Isco having to ask and sprawled across his bed on his stomach. He ignored Isco's quiet murmurs for at least 10 minutes but then rolled over and hooked the remote with his foot, scooping it up to flip aimlessly through channels. Isco had settled down to watch something but he didn't protest.

He had been behaving in this way all day. Perched in the stands with Isco, huffing and glaring and acting for all the world like he was alone. Isco should have given up trying to placate him ages ago.

"He said we will have our game." He said for the dozenth time. Finally Álvaro turned to face him on the bed, one of his feet stretched across and he toed at the hem of Isco's shorts. Isco ran a fingernail up Álvaro's calf.

"I've heard that before." He replied pointedly. 

"This is different." He said, although neither of them believed it, for the opposite reasons.

"Do you think we would have made the difference today?" Álvaro asked him, he edged a bit closer, the glare dropped out of his eyes a bit so that he was more present. 

"How can I tell, Álvy. We have many gifted players any one of which you would think would have won it for us."

"Yes but we're better." This time he stopped himself before going on a rant about Koke. Isco was stuck on his use of the word 'we' twice now. Álvaro met his eyes then, and they were shrewd and checking Isco's expression for disbelief. He found none. "I'm joking of course." He rolled across the bed again so he was closer to Isco. "I think I just need someone to suck me until I forget all this for a while." Álvaro said, and the desire glazing his eyes was in odd contrast to the pout of his lower lip. Isco laughed out loud at this.

"I don't think we're at the point of cock worship yet." He replied.

"But you're saying you would, eventually?" Álvaro propped himself up on one arm at that. The raw desire was unmistakeable and almost made Isco want to do it. Instead he swiftly pushed Álvaro onto his back and mounted him. When Álvaro placed his hands on Isco's waist Isco held them there, rolling his hips, perfectly positioned over Álvaro's cock. He thrust up into him at this and Isco held fast to his hands, holding him in place causing him to collapse back into the bed. Isco continued a slow rise and fall on top of him.

"Do you even know me." Isco said mischievously, tongue between teeth. Álvaro's lips parted with a wet noise and he stared up at Isco like a whole new realm of possibilities had just opened up to him. Again he tried to thrust up into Isco's movements but Isco's grip on his wrists was too strong. He lay back on the bed and let Isco grind down harder as he felt Álvaro harden against him.

"I guess not." He replied finally. "But I really want to."

"Was I your first?" Isco blurted out, slowing his motion and watching Álvaro, trying to steady his gaze when all he wanted to do was look away. Álvaro nodded, his attention still wraptly on Isco's face. "Was I your only?" Álvaro nodded again without pause. Isco pulled forward farther and then shimmied down in a way that made Álvaro jolt up unintentionally, a small noise forced out of his chest. He continued slow again. 

"How could you be my first and not my only?" Álvaro said after a pause in which he seemed to lose himself watching Isco's forearms flex over his own.

"You've been away 3 months, and everything's changed, what am I supposed to think?" Isco rolled off him then, and Álvaro sat up as soon as he did, his eyes wide and anxious, his hand closest to Isco reached across the bed but he stopped himself halfway towards Isco, palm flat and fingers curling around the comforter. They stared across at each other for what seemed an odd amount of time where neither knew what to say. Finally, Álvaro sighed and looked away. Something in Isco's chest tightened at that, that he couldn't find the words. Finally he shook his head again.

"No," Morata said fiercely. "No." He said again, but with less conviction, more panic making his voice hoarse. Isco decided he didn't want any more answer than that. Not right now. He pulled Álvaro's hand closest to him and Morata edged over on the bed, leaned across Isco to kiss him, but then as the kiss deepened he applied pressure so that Isco lay on his side. He edged closer so that their bodies pressed up against each other on the bed, his thigh pressing rhythmically against the heat between Isco's legs. When Isco's fingers played with the button on his jeans he quickly took off his pants and boxers and Isco did the same. He kissed Isco again, fingers wrapping around Isco's waist while he was still on his knees and then he was pulling his shirt over his head, kissing him everywhere, tongue tasting his neck, then his collar, then a nipple. Isco wrapped his fist around Álvaro's hard cock and squeezed when Álvaro's teeth scraped across his skin. Every time, it seemed like Álvaro wanted to mark him but stopped himself. He stroked him firmly a few times, his other hand on the small of his back, sliding down over his ass, and then Álvaro was bearing over him, looking a little unsure how to proceed.

Isco reached under, cupping Álvaro's balls slightly as he pressed two fingers against the sensitive spot just between his legs. Morata jerked forward a little, his eyes squeezing shut tight, pressing hard up against Isco. "Okay." He said, strangely, almost making Isco laugh out loud. Isco's hand drifted back to his dick and he rutted into his hand. He looked down at Isco again, asking with his eyes what he wanted to do. 

They repositioned themselves at Isco's command so that Álvaro was sitting back on his heels and Isco was riding him hard, each time skin slapped against skin Álvaro sighed a little, his face against the side of Isco's head, one hand around his neck holding them steady, and the other firmly on Isco's thigh to allow better thrust. 

"Jesus Christ." He groaned against Isco's cheek as Isco slowly ground down onto him, moaning a little as Álvaro pushed up and hit his spot exactly the right way. He brushed his nose across Isco's shoulder and Isco picked up the pace again with Álvaro still arching his back up into him on each thrust, matching his pace without delay. The sensation pulled Isco's spine taut, a mixed compulsion of wanting to pull completely straight and wanting to fold in on himself, wrap his body as close to the bundle of nerves inside him as possible. Isco reached a hand around Morata's neck to hold himself up and thread his fingers through slightly damp hair, rode harder still.

"Bite me. Do it. Bite me. Bite me." He meant to say it forcefully but it turned into a keening sound as Álvaro's grip tightened on Isco's hipbone and he thrust deeper than Isco thought he could. "Bite me." He said again, practically whispering this time. His entire body was tense and his cock throbbed between his legs. As if reading his mind Álvaro released his hip and wrapped a hand around the base of his cock which caused Isco to cry out and jerk oddly, halfway between trying to thrust pointlessly into Morata's hand and keep Álvaro inside him. He did this a few more times, whining softly. Álvaro grinned into his shoulder. "Fucking bite me." He said fiercely this time, he rocked his hips so that Álvaro was the one to cry out. He tried to hold still but Isco could tell he was close to losing control. He stopped the rhythm and swayed his hips from side to side, thrusting only shallowly in and out, Álvaro squirmed beneath him, a small noise escaped his mouth. Isco turned his head and kissed Álvaro sloppily, his tongue brushing the inside of Álvaro's cheek, they moved like this for another few seconds and then Álvaro released Isco's cock, he stroked Isco with just finger and thumb wrapped around him. Isco sat back so that Álvaro was all the way inside him, he pulled out slowly and then sat all the way back again. Álvaro palmed Isco's cock, stroked him fervently so that Isco thrust in more of a rhythm. And then Álvaro was biting his shoulder where it slopes into his neck.

"Fuck." He mumbled, he started to thrust faster still and Álvaro matched stroke for stroke. He could feel himself tightening around Álvaro, his whole body went weak against the pain in his shoulder, and Morata didn't let go. He flicked his wrist and Isco's rhythm stuttered a little as his whole body tensed around Álvaro's cock in his ass. Álvaro moaned into his shoulder as Isco came across the comforter. He didn't let go as Isco relaxed into him and Isco didn't stop thrusting despite his entire body protesting to the sensitivity as he felt Álvaro fill him. Álvaro stopped stroking him, smoothed his cock against stomach which was clenching and unclenching with the motion. And then Álvaro released his shoulder, nudged his nose against Isco's neck and they stayed like that, breathing heavily and covered in a fine sheen of sweat. Álvaro hugged his arms loosely around Isco's stomach and Isco was suddenly bashful, he pressed his eyes into Álvaro's shoulder. He couldn't see, but Álvaro was admiring the perfect indent of his teeth in Isco's shoulder, like he had created something, like he had made something his.

When Isco started to drift, his whole body tilting against Álvaro's chest, Morata pulled the comforter back and eased them both down onto their sides. He pulled out and leaned across the bed for the tissue on the bedside table. Isco's arms reached out blindly.

"Álvy," he mumbled softly, but there was something frantic tangible even in his slurred remonstration.

"I'm here. " Álvaro replied as he wiped off. He pulled the sheet up over Isco and smoothed his hair back, brushed his fingers across the mark on Isco's shoulder. Isco didn't seem to notice except to shimmy closer to Álvaro, a soft sigh that was more of a yawn. 

Maybe Morata was realizing how exhausting he was at times, because he draped an arm across Isco's stomach and nuzzled his head next to his. He closed his eyes and smiled in his sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

"4 people going to the movies does not make it a double date." Isco said through gritted teeth, not for the first time. Álvaro didn't answer, just continued raising an eyebrow and ruffling his hair in front of the mirror. He shook his head, annoyed, and began rifling through his bag.

"It's not a double date if you wear a stupid hat." He rebutted, pulling an Ed Hardy hat low over his brow before ripping it off rather violently and fitting it on backwards. Isco laughed. He briefly crumpled his hair in the mirror but it fell back into place the way it always did. Álvaro smiled crookedly at him then, in a way that seemed so intimate that Isco actually had to look away. "You're so effortless." Álvaro muttered. When Isco turned back to him he was pushing the hat up and down trying to find the right angle. He didn't ask Álvaro what he meant. He couldn't find his voice to tell him he's the same.

"It's not a double date if your two _friends_ aren't gay." He said after a few minutes of Álvaro flipping the hat around half a dozen times.

"Okay, I get it, you don't have to go." Álvaro replied. He sat down on the bed as he sprayed cologne on himself. The scent was heady and sharp but also clean and almost creamy. It was something that Álvaro had been wearing for years, and being close to him as he applied it reminded him of different times. Isco sat down on the bed beside him, lost momentarily in the past.

"It's not that." He said quietly.

"Then what?" Isco had to stop and think. He wasn't sure why he was feeling annoyed when he should have felt relieved. After being left out of the squad again Isco had expected Álvaro to be completely out of his reach, but instead he had called up Pablo and Fer and arranged a movie outing, which he had even gone as far as naming a date. "Isco." Álvaro prodded, he rested his wrists on Isco's thighs, his face peering into Isco's. Isco swayed forward and dropped a kiss on his brow over the scar. He wiggled the hat a bit so it sat just right and half smiled at the result. Álvaro grinned back.

"Why are you doing this?" Isco finally asked, he shifted his body so he was half turned away but Álvaro didn't move.

"I was mostly joking about the date bit, it's just a movie night, I don't know why you're making such a big deal --" 

"I mean this." Isco gestured vaguely at the air, felt his cheeks colour a bit, ran a hand nervously through his beard. "All of this. Us." He finally dropped the word 'us' and tried not to flinch.

"What?" 

"I don't understand what's going on." Isco said quietly after a long pause in which he fidgeted with the rips in his jeans. Morata smoothed his hand over his, stilling him.

"Neither do I." Álvaro replied. "But I'm just going with how I feel." 

_And how do you feel._ Isco never even asked. He just smiled brightly at him, nodded like he knew exactly what he meant when he wasn't even slightly sure. Álvaro squeezed his hand and he squeezed back like they were exchanging some hidden message, only Isco had no idea what they were saying.

The movie was probably ridiculous but all Isco remembers is the alternating pressure of their thighs as they restlessly moved against each other in the dark theatre, and the buttery taste of Álvaro's mouth. Sticky floors and the way the front of Álvaro's hat pressed against the wall, Isco's hand shooting out in an attempt to catch it before it clattered to the floor. Álvaro's laugh ringing out across the empty corridor before he ducked his head, smiled shyly at Isco before releasing his hold on his waist.

And it felt an awful lot like a date when Álvaro kissed him goodbye on his doorstep.


	5. Chapter 5

He hadn't even said hello before Álvaro was kissing his neck and walking him backwards towards the bed. When the back of Isco's knees hit the mattress he tumbled backwards and Morata landed rather harder on him than he probably intended. He was already hard and grinding down on Isco insistently.

"I missed you," He said between kisses on the cheek, on the lips, on the forehead, everywhere. Then he was yanking Isco's shirt off and his own. Sometimes the way he touched Isco felt like he was touching a woman, the way he pushed up over Isco's nipple with his palm, the way his hands wrapped around Isco's waist like he had hips.

"I know," Isco said through a smile. Álvaro pressed his mouth over the smile, sucked lightly on the corner of his lip, he rubbed his palm across the hardness in Isco's jeans and Isco forgot his train of thought for a second. He pressed his open hand against Álvaro's erection and Álvaro thrust into his hand as he pulled open the button on Isco's jeans. He reached past the waistband of Isco's boxers and tried to get a good grip on him through all the material interference. He stroked Isco in his jeans a few times, Isco groaned softly and went still, his entire focus lost on Álvaro's large hand wrapped around his cock. He wanted to pull his pants down, watch how perfect his hand would look there fisting around him.

"I missed you a lot." Álvaro grunted into Isco's shoulder, pressing his cheekbone into the barely visible mark he had left there the month before. He inhaled the scent of Isco and pushed up against his thigh. Isco thought maybe this had something to do with one night they had tried to have phone sex. It started out inoccuous enough but then halfway through the conversation Álvaro had blurted out that he was horny. 

"Are you alone in bed?" Isco had asked, and Álvaro had chuckled across the line. "Me too." They had carried on a bit but then Álvaro had changed the subject just before they were about to start touching themselves.

"Are you hard right now?"

"Oh shit, I've just realized I've got training in like, 4 hours." Álvaro said suddenly, the huskiness dropping out of his tone.

"Oh..."

"Is this your first time doing this? This phone thing? With a guy?" Álvaro had asked flatly, something off in his tone. Isco paused, trying to think of what he could have said to suggest he had experience in this.

"Er, I think so, yeah." He should have been honest, it was his first time ever, but he was starting to feel like Álvaro was calling him inexperienced.

"You think so." Álvaro replied, his tone disbelief coloured with anger and sarcasm.

"I meant yes, it is. Why?" Isco pulled his comforter over himself, sat up against his headboard. He was annoyed that he could feel his ears and cheeks burning.

"I don't know. It's my first time. It feels a bit, odd to me." Álvaro says in an offhand way, like he's not really bothered at all.

"Oh." Isco says again.

"I guess it's just not my thing." Álvaro says slowly. His voice sounding distant across the line as he adjusted himself.

"Oh." Is the only word Isco knows. "It's not for everyone maybe." He forces himself to say. They sit in silence for what seems like an eternity. Isco switches off his light and lays stiffly on his back. He feels like he just failed an exam.

"I'll just wait until I see you." Álvaro said after a while. The way he said it, like a promise, like a prospect he would be imagining enthusiastically until it happens, made Isco feel a lot better. He rolled over on his side, hugging his knees towards his chest.

"Me too." Isco replied.

"There's no one else is there?" Álvaro asked quietly, like he almost didn't want an answer.

"No." Isco said unthinkingly, because it was true. He should have asked the same but he couldn't bring himself to. He should have asked so many other things.

Instead of spending the rest of the month imagining all the the things he'd do to Morata, he tried to figure out what went wrong on the phone. The only conclusion he came up with, over and over again, sometimes waking in the middle of the night drenched in sweat with that thought foremost in his head, was that it was his voice. That Álvaro wasn't used to hearing a man on the other end and it made him uncomfortable. Reunited now after the time apart, Isco thought he knew what to do about that.

"Let me," Isco said. He pushed himself up on his elbows and Álvaro drew back, watching him anxiously, his arousal burning in his eyes. Isco straddled him on the edge of the bed and rolled his hips down against Álvaro's erection. He gasped a little and then his hips moved up to meet Isco's on each thrust, like they were actually having sex. He was kissing at Isco's face again, not even seeming to care whether he made contact with his mouth. Isco placed his hands on the side of his head to still him and kissed him on the mouth. Morata gasped again, rolled his hips in a steadier way, his tongue in Isco's mouth. Isco pushed forward so that Álvaro let himself fall on his back. He undid Álvaro's jeans and pulled them all the way off. His cock lay pink and heavy against his hip, slightly to his right. He was watching Isco raptly, lips parted, desperately turned on.

He kissed the tip of Álvaro's cock and he immediately sat up in surprise, like he hadn't known that's what Isco would do. Isco stopped him with a palm against his stomach, the muscles tensed beneath his hand. Álvaro lay back again with a small noise in the back of his throat. Isco looked up at him then.

"Can I suck your cock?" He asked him wryly. Álvaro just nodded, squinting his eyes shut.

"I won't last long," he muttered, a kind of warning. "I haven't gotten a blow job in -- oh" Isco cut him off midsentence by stretching his lips around the head of his dick, pressing his tongue against the underside. He moved down slowly, slicking him up and using his hand to speed the process. Álvaro adjusted his feet restlessly. 

When Isco started to find a rhythm Álvaro pulled Isco's free hand across his chest so that Isco rubbed his hand across the planes of his stomach, the muscles moving as he thrust with every bob of Isco's head. He thread his fingers through Isco's hair, sliding across the sweat pooling at the back of his neck. He took Álvaro deep into his throat and he pulled at his hair until it hurt. The whole time Morata made small keening noises and when Isco put his mouth around his balls, his tongue flicking back against the sensitive spot behind he swore and tugged on Isco's wrist and then he placed his big hands around his cheeks, thumbs rubbing through his beard, shaking a little. Isco splayed his hand across his chest in an effort to calm him. Álvaro breathed heavily for a moment as Isco swallowed.

"Isco, I'm gunna come." He said even though Isco wasn't touching him just then. Isco smiled wickedly up at him and Álvaro smiled back a bit nervously. When he took him in his mouth again Álvaro thrust up involuntarily, twice as sensitive as before. "Isco." He said again, frantically, his hands still wrapped around Isco's face. "Isco." He pushed Isco's head, encouraging him to take him all the way in his mouth again, and Isco let him take over the motion of it, he held his mouth still while his tongue pressed hard against him. Álvaro pushed so hard Isco choked a bit, the noise provoking a groan from Álvaro. "I'm gunna--" His sentence was punctuated by a series of moans as he came hard down the back of Isco's throat. Isco swallowed it all down and Álvaro held himself there until the last pulse. Then he just let go of Isco and his bones turned to jelly. Isco pulled out slowly and Álvaro hissed between his teeth at the sensitivity. 

When Isco joined him on the bed Álvaro was where he had left him, completed naked, feet hanging over the bed, with one arm thrown dramatically across his eyes. When he felt Isco's weight sink down beside him he looked over at him with a smile. Isco pulled the blanket over himself but not before Álvaro saw that he was still hard.  
"You're fucking good at that." Álvaro told him, he reached down and held Isco's dick in his hand, taking his breath from him. He stroked a bit lazily at first, his grasp loose, thumb brushing against him. Isco breathed quietly.

"I know." He shifted a bit closer and Álvaro wrapped an arm around him, pulled him in closer, nudged his head so that Isco pressed his face against his shoulder. He knew even after the glass of water that Álvaro wouldn't want to kiss. Álvaro tightened his grip and stroked more firmly so that Isco squirmed a little in his grasp, moved his hips slightly with the movement. 

Álvaro shifted again so that on each stroke Isco pressed up against his stomach. 

"Come on me." Álvaro said quietly, it sounded childish, almost like a boy talking to his toys. Isco's dick felt heavy, his skin hot and Álvaro's firm grip, his large hand around him and the command turned him on so much. They both watched and Isco made a small sound as after a few more strokes he spilled over Álvaro's stomach, dribbling droplets across the fine hairs below his abdomen.

After dragging a tissue across him, trying to wipe it all up they lay like that, hanging a bit off the bed in a sort of half hug. Eventually Isco heard Álvaro's breathing slow and he rolled over on the bed, pulled his boxers back on and went to sleep too.


	6. Chapter 6

"Is it gunna hurt?" Álvaro asked him, sounding kind of in awe.

"I don't know, I'll try not to make it hurt." Isco was slicking up his hand after Álvaro had decided he wanted to try letting Isco fuck him. After the match he had cornered Isco on his way out of the lockers, dragged him down a maintenance corridor and groped him just out of the line of sight of their team mates. Isco drove them to the hotel quickly, and Álvaro kept rubbing his thigh in the most tantalizing way on the drive.

Back at the hotel Isco had been hanging his jacket as Álvaro sat on the bed, watching him thoughtfully.

"You should be the one to fuck me, goldenboy." Isco had scored a goal today, and Álvaro seemed to have enjoyed that a bit.

"Did your first time hurt?" Álvaro asked him then, he had taken off his pants and was leaning against the wall at the head of the bed, feet crossed at his ankles a little self consciously. He looked up at Isco slyly through his eyelashes, they both knew he wasn't asking of their first time.

"To be honest I don't remember." Isco replied, biting his lip. Álvaro just nodded thoughtfully. Isco was already painfully hard, the idea of being inside Morata was turning him on almost more than he could handle. He didn't think Álvaro would last long but then neither will he. "I'm gunna finger you first, if you come before we get any further it's fine." Isco tells him, trying to hide the waver in his voice. Álvaro shifts onto his stomach and Isco rubs a lubed hand across his ass, parts him and slicks up his entrance before pushing a finger in.

"I'm not gunna--oh god" Álvaro begins but is stopped midsentence when Isco's finger pushes inside of him. His entire body tenses for a second as he adjusts to the pressure, but then he is smoothing his hands across Isco's chest and stomach as Isco moves his finger in and out.

"How does it feel? I'm going to try a second finger." Isco asks him, trying to distract him a little. Álvaro leans slightly on a side, his legs apart so that Isco still has access. He kisses him on the mouth, it's deep and hard and begging for more. He looks at Isco then, smiles a bit bashfully, reaches a hand down and strokes Isco, stopping his breath for a second.

"It does feel a bit weird, at first. Mostly it just feels fucking good." Álvaro says, his voice breaking when he swears and rising and falling with each movement of Isco's hand. "It doesn't hurt." He says.

"This won't hurt but my cock might." Isco warns and Álvaro's eyes flash a challenge at him, bright and wild with desire for him, but he already looks like a second finger will put him over the edge. Isco eases it in, spreads his fingers a bit and Álvaro unconsciously strokes Isco faster, his hips move the slightest bit as he tenses with each thrust. "You'd better stop jerking me off I'm close." Isco says. His dick is already leaking precome that Álvaro had not even noticed he smeared across the back of his hand. He slowed his hand, loosened his fist but didn't stop. 

"I'm close too." Álvaro says, wincing a little when Isco's finger drags near his prostate, he jerks forward slightly. 

"Should we--do you want to--I mean?" Isco is nervous now, somewhere between just wanting to make him come right now, watch his face as he has his first and wanting to come in Álvaro's hand again, and what he knows will be a fucking amazing orgasm inside of Álvaro. Which could potentially be a let down if he blows his load as Isco is trying to push in. He stops thrusting and Álvaro inhales heavily, trying to get control of his body. He stops stroking Isco and wraps his thumb and finger tight around the base of his cock.

"Fuck me." He demands. Isco scrambles onto his knees. They shift around so that Morata is on all fours, the position that will open him up the most. 

"If you come right away I just hope it's really loud." Isco growled into Álvaro's ear, placing his own hand over Álvaro's wrapped in a makeshift cockring around himself. He pressed himself against Álvaro's ass and Álvaro held fast, didn't shift forward the slightest. "I'm gunna use a condom this time, it'll be easier." He told him as he reached across for the package. He rolled the condom on and added more lube, spread more lube over Álvaro, who jumped a little at the temperature of it. Isco chuckled and Álvaro bit back a laugh in response. "Okay." Isco said by way of warning. His hands shook a little as he held him steady and eased himself inside. As he gained entry he leaned all the forward and he heard Álvaro gasp at the same time as him. Álvaro shifted his grip as he tried to hold himself tighter, Isco moved shallowly in and out a few times to open him up. Álvaro twitched impatiently beneath him. 

"Isco," He groaned quietly, and hearing his name made heat pool in his gut and he pushed in deep and moaned, pressing up against Álvaro. It felt so fucking good to be inside him he wanted to make it last forever but he already felt like he could come. He pushed a few more times, hitting the bundle of nerves and holding fast on Álvaro's waist as he almost collapsed. "Oh god." He cried out, he dropped onto his elbow causing Isco to fall back a bit then push in as he tried to regain their balance. Álvaro moaned loudly, his other hand tightening still more.

"It's okay, I want you to come." Isco told him, he placed his hand over Álvaro's grip on his cock, pried his fingers apart gently. Álvaro withdrew his hand and Isco replaced it, stroking slowly as he moved in and out. 

"Oh fuck." Álvaro moaned into the bed, Isco moved a bit faster, pushed in so that he brushed the spot and Álvaro made a pleading noise as Isco jerked him fast and he came. His ass became impossibly tight around Isco and he tried not to move too fast as it pulled the orgasm from the base of his cock, like he went from halfway there to coming hard and it was overwhelming. He sucked Álvaro's shoulder as he felt it pulling every drop from him and Álvaro grabbed his hand to stop him from stroking his oversensitive dick, which he hadn't even realized he had been doing. 

"Sorry." He grunted, and Álvaro giggled. At first it was just a bark, and then he started to laugh like he couldn't help it, and Isco laughed too. He pulled out and Álvaro pressed his face into the mattress.

"I don't know why I'm laughing." He said with a grin. Isco passed him some tissue as he eased off the condom. Isco just smiled at him. Álvaro rolled over on his back, sprawled there, his hands entangled in the sheets as he stretched. Isco lay down beside him.

"Did it hurt?" Isco asked him, staring up at the ceiling.

"Not really." Álvaro replied. He tilted Isco's chin towards him and kissed him slow and lazy, like they could do this all day. Isco kissed back, his tongue slipped into Álvaro's mouth and their tongues met in a comforting way. When they broke off the kiss Álvaro just looked at him, his eyes bright and soft and again overwhelming. Everything about Álvaro overwhelming Isco. He looked away again.

"I really liked doing it with you." Álvaro said into the quiet of the room. Isco didn't reply for a minute.

"4 months ago you said you weren't into me." Isco finally said, after 2 months of wanting to say it, it was the first thing he had wanted to say.

"I lied." Álvaro said simply. He turned on his side and hugged Isco against him, didn't notice that Isco had gone still in his arms. He felt Álvaro's body relaxing into sleep and he stared at the lamp on the bedside table.


	7. Chapter 7

When he heard her voice on the other end of the phone it was like every fear he had had been recognized. Like every feeling of foreboding he had was confirmed in the way she said (in Spanish), "Morata's phone?"

His head spun and his heart dropped like a stone into his stomach. He swallowed audibly before deciding to answer.

"Oh." He said awkwardly. "I was looking for Álvaro." 

"Who is this?" She said a bit bluntly.

"Francisco." Isco offered stiffly.

"Oh, Isco?" He nodded even though she couldn't see him but she seemed to understand. "Isco, it's Maria, Álvaro's girlfrined! I've heard so much about you, I can't believe we've never talked." Isco nodded again, cleared his throat.

"Oh, yeah, me too. I haven't seen you around I think Álvaro's been hiding you." He said, sarcasm dripping into his tone but she didn't notice. He heard a rustle as she placed her hand over the mouthpiece.

"It's Isco!" She declared happily to Álvaro, he mumbled something that Isco couldn't catch. "It was ringing, I know you haven't set your voicemail up yet!" She replied. Then her voice was clear again. "Well, it was nice to finally hear your voice, maybe someday soon we should meet. I'd love to meet your girlfriend and son too!" She said happily. Isco nodded again then forced himself to speak.

"Absolutely, we will set something up." He said, it sounded fake to him but her laugh was lovely, like windchimes as she giggled and handed the phone off to Álvaro.

"Shit." Was the first thing Álvaro said.

"You missed our call yesterday." Isco said, wasn't sure what else to say. Didn't know it was a rule that he shouldn't call first.

"Yeah, I went out of town at the last second. Isco --"

"What the fuck Álvaro?" His voice cracked on the last two words and he stopped himself from going further, pressed his hand over his mouth. He stood up and paced around his empty bedroom.

"You never asked." Álvaro said, like that was some sort of excuse. "You knew I was dating someone since January, I figured you just didn't want to know, I don't know. This doesn't change anything." Álvaro was trying to reason with him now but what he was saying made absolutely no sense.

"You told me you had broken up in June!" Isco said a bit hysterically. He moved the phone from his mouth and traced the pattern of the wallpaper with his free hand.

"We got back together." Álvaro said quietly.

"When?"

"I don't know."

"When?"

"Isco, it doesn't matter, none of this matters."

"When?"

"When I came home from Turin. I begged her to come back with me. We've been living together." Finally Álvaro had the decency to sound guilty. "You don't know how hard it was, to come here, and then have that, and nobody speaks Spanish..." He trailed off.

"I don't care." Isco replied. 

"Yes you do." Álvaro countered. But it sounded more like he was begging Isco to care. Isco's chest hurt as he dragged air into his lungs. He exhaled slowly. 

"I won't do this."

"Right and what about Victoria? What's fair on her?"

"She's the mother of my child you dick!" He said loudly, stopped and breathed for a moment before continuing. "Anyway you know what our relationship is like."

"Yeah, I do, you don't talk about things. You never talk about things." 

"Sorry, I'll remember to ask if someone has a girlfriend before I fuck them next time." He spat back.

"Isco..." Álvaro said quietly.

"I won't do this." Isco said again.

"I'm really sorry." Álvaro said but the words were empty. Isco hung up the phone.


	8. Chapter 8

Isco spent the better part of the month fuming over this betrayal. He thought about all the times they were talking late at night, how Álvaro didn't want to skype anymore and he thought it was because he preferred the phone. Never because he was hiding something. He imagined Álvaro shifting around restlessly on the sofa, speaking in soft undertones, ears perked in case Maria woke up. Then joining her in bed later. Maybe waking her up with soft lips pressing against the softest parts of her, pushing inside of her, thinking of him. Or not thinking of him at all. Maybe when they fucked he thought of her.

And then he started fishing for information. He wanted to hit himself for not checking social media earlier. Álvaro had posted photos of them, a few, since he moved to Turin. He liked the photos now just to irk him, but he had never thought to check before. He just uploaded his own photos and closed the app. 

The worst part was the empty feeling was only magnified. It had always been there, like something in his heart knew that Álvaro could never be his, and now the wound was just scraped open, bleeding, gushing, gaping, instead of the quiet pain he carried before.

He spent more time with Vic. They had sex sometimes, but mostly they just hung out, took turns cuddling the baby, took him out to public places, looked cute. He felt a pang of guilt when she looked surprised when he kissed her on the cheek for a picture, like him showing affection was such a rare thing. He felt so guilty that he never even uploaded the photo anywhere. He felt fake.

Overwhelmingly though he felt angry at himself. He knew that if he had have asked, all those times he could have, that Álvaro wouldn't have lied. They both knew it. He hated to accept that fact but he couldn't see around it. Álvaro never hid anything, one check on instagram would have told him all he needed to know. Maybe he didn't look on purpose. Maybe he was the one lying all along.

One afternoon he sat out at the pool, dipping his feet in up to his calves, just swirling the water and staring out across the surface. Victoria sat quietly down beside him, folded her legs under her and put her arm around him. She rested her head on his shoulder and he held her to him, dropping his chin to his chest, smiling wryly at the bottom of the pool. The sun was setting, sending shards of light in round rivulets across the pool floor. The only sound was the swish of the water as he moved his legs in a wide circle, sending ripples, small waves that didn't touch the other side, and the hum of the pool heater.

"Something's wrong." She murmured into his skin. It wasn't a question. He nodded. "But you won't tell me about it." She said, again not a question. He nodded. She sighed and hugged him tighter. "Okay."

He kicked his foot out over the water, sending the warm light splashing away, shattering the silence with the deep sound of his foot plunging into the water and kicking out. Victoria was his best friend, she knew so much about him, but he couldn't even talk about this. What made him more angry was one of the last things Álvaro had said. "You never talk about things." Another thing he was right about. Most of the things Victoria knew about him she had learned by chance. Walking in on him jerking off to gay porn had forced him to give voice to his preferences, but they had never talked about it again. They both had other partners, he knew, but neither of them felt the need to tell the other. Long before Junior was even born they had just drifted apart romantically. They had never broken up, exactly, but it was a silent agreement that they were no longer a couple really. They were still very close, but neither had any expectations of the other. Victoria kept her private life out of the media and that was all Isco needed from her. They raised the baby together, sometimes they were affectionate, but it was nothing more than a connection by the life they had created.

He pulled out his phone and checked Morata's instagram again, the screen visible to Victoria, his own silent communication. She didn't say a word, just watched him scroll through, all the way back the first picture he posted with Maria. He opened the photo. Liked it. Closed the app. She still held her tongue.

Finally he looked at her. She watched him watching her, a smile played across her face but her eyes held confusion, like she was ready to frown sympathetically at the drop of a dime. He smiled, it didn't reach his eyes but he smoothed some of her hair behind her ear and she smiled back at him. Hers touched her eyes and she looked so beautiful he wanted to kiss her then. He didn't.

"Want to go for a swim?" He asked her, leaning close.

"It's way too cold, Isco. Don't you know they're closing the pool on the weekend." She replied.

"Too bad!" He said, at the same moment grabbing her by the waist and pushing her sideways. She screamed before he caught her at the last second, laughing loudly. They both fell onto the rough pavement and she scrambled to her feet.

"Isco!" She shouted as he sat up. She bent down and shoved all her weight into his lower back, he dropped his watch and phone onto the pool's edge before letting himself be pushed into the water. He rolled onto his back and kicked water up at her. "Your watch!" She shouted, risking getting wet to gather his things and carry them away from the pool. He peeled off his shirt and floated around on his back, clinging to a gold floaty that hurt his eyes to look at directly. Victoria walked warily around the perimeter of the pool to pick some flowers. They were the same red as her lipstick and she threaded one through her hair.

She disappeared into the house with a bouquet gathered in her arms and returned with a baby. Isco was out of the pool by then and shadows had stretched halfway across it. He had stripped down his boxers and was still dripping wet. Junior whined from the cold when he held him in his arms.

"How old are babies when they can learn to swim?" Isco asked her, holding Junior away from him and then wooshing him forward, dropping kisses across his face. The baby made cooing noises, closed his eyes and opened his mouth and shook his tiny fists.

"Any age, Isco. We should get an instructor if you'd like him to learn." She replied. He nodded. 

"God, it's cold," He shivered violently. She took Junior back and he followed her on tiptoe to the house, pebbles sticking to his wet feet. He stood shivering on the carpet at the back door as he stripped naked, and Victoria brought him a towel.

"Won't you stay for dinner?" Isco asked her. She shook her head.

"Sorry, we have plans." She said of her and Junior. He didnt respond, just pat his hair dry with the towel before wrapping it around his waist.

He went to bed alone, ignoring several text messages from Dani, then Illarra, then Medran, all asking him to come play FIFA. The last message he received was from Álvaro.

Did you seriously not know?

He deleted the message, and then deleted Álvaro's contact information. It was stupid really, he had the number memorized. He switched his phone off and rolled over, sprawling out across the empty bed.


	9. Chapter 9

The second time Isco called Álvaro first he would have been prepared for her to answer, but she didn't.

"The phone was locked, you know? I didn't know you could still pick up calls." As if reading his mind, this was the first thing Álvaro said to him.

"I'm so glad you took pains to hide me from your girlfriend." Isco replied wryly. He could imagine the flush in Álvaro's cheeks at this. "Did you really assume I knew?"

"Did you really not?" Isco kept his silence, and Álvaro made an assenting noise across the line, as if the silence was confirmation that he didn't. "I swear to God Isco, I thought you did. I swear."

"If you thought I knew then why didn't you say that's why you couldn't skype, or tell me not to call first, or mention it, even a single time, in 3 months." Isco demanded suddenly. He hadn't intended to be mad when he called but he was. He sat at his kitchen table, a bottle of wine and a tumbler on the light wood in front of him. He sipped the one glass he had allowed himself, his mouth puckered as he tasted it for the first time.

"I just-" Álvaro floundered, Isco knew if he could see him now he would be waving his arms and pulling faces as he tried to find the words. "I thought we were on the same page, like?" It didn't really make sense and yet Isco understood. He hated that he did. He hated that he wasn't half as mad at Morata as he should be, because he got it. He always got him. He hated that he still called him, hadn't lasted more than a few weeks. He hated that he still wanted to hear an update from his friend.

"Do you love her?" Isco said suddenly. It was like the words had been trapped under a bell jar, small wings beating at the glass and Isco had moved it only slightly, and they had taken their chance and escaped. He hadn't intended to say it, he had just lifted the glass the smallest bit. He held the phone away from his mouth.

"Isco..." He didn't answer, just tapped his finger on the cool glass in front of him, taking another sip, trying to hold his ground before he got too nervous and changed the subject. He bit his lip, hard, just past the point of pain. "Shouldn't we have this conversation another time? In person maybe?"

"No, we shouldn't have this conversation another time. Actually, we shouldn't have it ever."

"Oh of course not." Álvaro interrupted.

"Shut up, Álvy. Just shut the fuck up. This is not on me. We are not having this conversation ever because it doesn't fucking matter. I'm nothing. I'm your friend. Your long time friend. You can tell me these things if you want to but I'm not going to ask and you don't owe me an answer. Okay?"

It was late. Isco had watched the setting sun pull long shadows across the tiled floor and now the shadows were everywhere, the only light coming from the hallway, throwing the shadow of his glass and the bottle of wine in two long slants, dark claw marks slicing across the table. He ran his fingers through his beard as he waited for Álvaro to answer. Finally, he sighed.

"If you say so. " He replied. It was good enough. They sat in silence again, a hundred things Isco wanted to say flitted around his brain, swarming the air above his head like a storm of gnats, buzzing like mosquitoes and furrowing his brow. He ground his jaw and bit back every single word.

_You really hurt me._

"What happens now?"

"I guess we just see each other around." Isco said, he had spent days wondering how things would have gone if they didn't start sleeping together, if they would have talked all the time or would they have just drifted apart. He felt Álvaro's mood darken even over the phone as he breathed another heavy sigh, there was a small noise as he shifted something, wherever he was out there. Isco couldn't even picture what his house in Turin looked like, what he looked like sitting there, hundreds of miles away.

"I need you, you know that right?" Álvaro finally said. His voice was hoarse, like the words had stuck on the way out. He swallowed and said it again with more conviction. "I need you." 

Isco felt the lines in his face collapse, he allowed himself a momentary frown before he rearranged them into a sort of grimace. He took another sip of wine, swilled it around in his mouth, the heavy sour taste of it forcing the muscles in his face to tighten. He swirled the wine in the glass, thoughtful.

"I know." Isco replied. But I don't need you.


	10. Chapter 10

He shouldn't even have gone to the party. He knew Álvaro would be there. He went anyway. He wore a nice sweater that Victoria picked out, one that was supposed to bring out his eyes. He clutched Junior to his chest like a lifeline and smiled proudly when people cooed over the baby in the santa suit. Victoria told everyone it was his idea. He blushed every time.

He came with Maria. She scooped Junior out of his arms as soon as she saw them, kissed him on the head and the baby giggled. He didn't always warm up to people. She balanced him on her hip like it was her own child as she kissed Isco on both cheeks, shook hands with Victoria and kissed her too. Álvaro and Isco exchanged solemn nods. Victoria looked a bit confused. She tried to meet his eyes but he stared at the floor, vacant smile pasted on his face. When Maria started asking for photos he disappeared down the hallway and didn't return when they called his name.

Isco found himself being crowded into a large walk in closet, dim potlights over honey coloured oaken floors. He smelled only the slightest like shea butter but in a way that smelled like it would stay on Isco's skin until he washed. He pressed three fingers into the back of Isco's neck as he kissed him because they had nowhere to lean. With his tongue in his mouth he forgot his anger and Isco thought of getting on his knees but there was nothing urgent in the way Álvaro kissed him. After a moment that felt too brief, Álvaro drew back and just looked at him sadly, like he was comitting something to memory that he wouldn't see in a long time. As he turned to go something inside Isco switched on, he panicked and his arms flailed out unthinkingly, he took Álvaro's wrist in his hand and he turned back only slightly. He slid his wrist out of Isco's grasp, squeezed his hand in his and Isco watched him go. 

He stood in the closet for about a minute before feeling rather foolish about the idea of someone finding him there alone.

Later on he realized the shea butter smell came from her. He tasted like candy canes, he wondered if that was from her too.

He also realized he didn't care.

The streetlights flashed lines of light over and over across their faces as they drove home in silence. Vic tried asking, once, what was up with him and Álvaro and received a grunt and a shrug in response. She didn't broach the subject again. She knew better than to try. The baby kicked the back of his seat in the same rhythm of the pounding in his head.


	11. Chapter 11

Isco knew it was the day before Álvaro flew back to Turin. He knew without asking him, he knew without meaning to really. So when he heard a knock at his door in the late hours of the night he was still awake and he wasn't really surprised.

He was still dressed in the sweats he had been wearing all day, it was his second last day of break as well. They had just returned from Dubai and he had one day off before training began. He was still feeling a bit low after the loss, despite it being just a friendly.

He switched the porch light back on before he pulled open the door. Álvaro stood there blinking into the light, a dozen white roses clutched to his chest. Isco snorted and crossed his arms, blocking the entrance.

"Hi." Álvaro said, offering the roses out to him. Isco didn't move to take them.

"What are you doing here." Isco said flatly.

"I'm flying out tomorrow, so I wanted to--"

"Bring me flowers?"

"Sorry." Álvaro shrugged, his cheeks coloured and he glanced away, dropped his arms so the roses tilted towards the floor, dejected looking. His hair fell across his forehead and he looked so cartoonish, like a wilted flower himself, that Isco laughed and stepped aside, gesturing to Álvaro to come in.

Isco walked through to the kitchen and busied himself with preparing drinks. Álvaro removed his shoes and followed him into the dining room area, he rifled through a cupboard below the counter and emerged with a glass vase Isco hadn't even known he had. He flicked on the tap, filled the vase and carefully placed the flowers in. He slid the vase across the counter, stared at it for a second, shook his head and moved it to the table. Isco stood in the middle of his kitchen watching. When Álvaro realized he had an audience he blushed and smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry." He said again. He slid the vase across the table so that it was no longer centred, like he hadn't moments before been concentrated on arranging them perfectly. Isco placed a glass in front of him and a bottle of mineral water and his own glass down. He scooped up the vase in both arms and carried it over to the window ledge above the sink. Álvaro watched him wraptly, smiled when Isco stepped back to admire his work.

"Won't your girlfriend wonder why her bed is empty tonight?" Isco said as he sat down at the table, clinking glasses as he poured the water. Álvaro cleared his throat.

"She flew back a few days ago, so did I actually. I just had a few more things to do here. In Madrid." He replied. Isco nodded.

They sat in silence for a while. Álvaro finished a glass of water and poured another. Isco stared into his.

"It's not like. It's not like we were anything. It's not like anything else could have happened." Isco fumbled to find the right words. "It's not like we had any sort of agreement. I just thought--" He stopped himself again, took a deep breath, remembered what Álvaro had said. "We could never be together. It could only ever be sex." He said, bolder this time. Álvaro just watched him. After a while he caught himself, finished another glass.

"So you're not mad?" Álvaro asked finally, in a way that suggested it wasn't the first thing he had wanted to ask.

"I feel like you lied to me, Álvy. You did. You could have told me at any point and maybe I wouldn't have done it, but you chose not to. Don't pretend that's on me. It's fucking not." He flared up again and stopped himself. "I'm not mad really. I just feel like you're kind of a shitty person." He finished. Álvaro glared at him over his glass but then dropped his gaze.

"Fair enough." He said lazily, like he didn't really care what Isco thought, or about this conversation any longer.

"You're my best friend, even if you do selfish things sometimes." Isco told him, Álvaro smiled into his drink but didnt look up. 

"If we could be together though, would you want to be? It wasn't just sex for you?" Álvaro asked, he stared him straight in the eyes and Isco didn't look away. The softness in his gaze told Isco what Álvaro's answer would be, he thought.

"Does it matter?" He intoned fiercely.

"I would want to. Be together I mean." Álvaro said quietly. He didn't look embarrassed by the statement, but he looked a little bit sad. Isco shifted in his chair.

"It doesn't make any difference." Isco supplied. Álvaro watched his face again, and Isco wanted to look away but he didn't, he felt so vulnerable in the moment, like Álvaro was reading everything he thought in the curve of his lips.

"I think you would too." Álvaro answered for him.

"So what." Isco said casually, he swallowed the remnants of his first glass and placed it on the table. The chair creaked as he leaned back in a stretch.

"I just wanted to know." Álvaro muttered, almost to himself.

"You're so selfish," Isco said, laughing in disbelief.

"How?" Álvaro retorted, his face darkened, he looked angrily confused. Isco laughed again.

"You just want to know how important you are to me so you can feed your ego." Isco said, not unkindly, kind of jokingly, but still the truth. Álvaro sputtered a laugh.

"That's exactly right." He admitted, he frowned at himself, laughed again helplessly. Álvaro leaned over the table, one hand reached across towards Isco but Isco withdrew his own hands, held them to the back of his chair like he had decided to stretch again. Neither of them reacted to this sudden movement.

"So do you reckon you'll get a starting position soon at Juventus?" Isco asked, arching a brow playfully. Álvaro snorted at him, glared again.

"I'd fucking better." He replied. They started talking about sports for a while, finished the bottle of water under the low light above Isco's kitchen table. At one point Álvaro slumped over the table, resting his head on crossed arms and closing his eyes. It actually hurt something in Isco's chest to see him there, how right it feels, sitting across from him in the dim light of his kitchen at all hours of the night, talking and joking and sharing themselves, small pieces at a time. Isco never felt like doing that with anyone other than Morata. He placed a hand on Álvaro's back and rubbed soothing circles there, Álvaro sighed heavily, stifled a yawn with a smile. He shifted his head a bit to glance at his watch.

"Shit. I've got a flight to catch in a few hours." He said, peering wistfully up at Isco. Isco stood up and Álvaro stretched and checked his phone. They walked to the foyer but before Álvaro put on his shoes he was pressing against Isco. "Can we hug at least?" He asked. Isco nodded.

At first the hug was innocent, a loose hug between friends, a pat on the back. But then Álvaro pulled Isco against him and he didn't protest, he put one hand in his hair and Álvaro tucked his head under Isco's neck. Isco squeezed him tight against him for a second, kissed his hair, blinking slowly and wondering what the fuck they were doing.

"Is this what we've come to?" Isco muttered.

"What?"

"Hugging like school children too scared to admit they have a crush on each other." He laughed a little. Álvaro shifted against him, his small laugh hummed against Isco's skin. He seemed to be enjoying the feel of Isco's freshly shaved face. He pressed his cheek up against his neck and inhaled his aftershave discreetly.

"To be fair, I feel like roughhousing would be more likely to lead to sex than this." Álvaro said.

"Really, because I can feel you getting hard." Isco replied with sarcasm. Álvaro pressed his face into Isco's neck to stifle an embarrassed laugh, he lifted his head, smiling goofily, bright eyes staring into Isco's own. 

"Sorry, I can't help it." He said bashfully.

"What are you thinking about?" Isco asked.

"Grabbing your ass." Álvaro said without pause. His voice was low and raspy and so sexy, he could probably feel Isco getting hard too.

"Do it." Isco told him. Álvaro grabbed him with both hands, rubbed hard with his thumbs and shoved Isco back so his hands pressed between the wall and Isco's ass.

"I'd grab you back but there's not much to hold." Isco jibed. Álvaro nipped at his jaw and Isco yelped. 

"Good thing you prefer to bottom then." He said, lips against Isco's throat. Isco's eyes fluttered shut for a moment.

"Who said I prefer to bottom?" He asked in mock outrage.

"Don't you?" Álvaro pulled back then, eyes glittering with mischief and interest.

"Yes." Isco admitted, crooked smile turning up the corner of his lip.

Álvaro shimmied his hips against Isco, reached his hands past the waistband of Isco's sweats to grab bare skin.

"So, March then." Álvaro said with some finality, though he didn't move away.

"March." Isco agreed. Álvaro leaned towards him and he didn't flinch or turn away.

As soon as their lips met it was like they switched into a frenzy, pulling at hot skin, at clothes, at hair. They didn't even make it to the bedroom. There was something angry in the way Isco let Álvaro fuck him, his movements were rough as he shoved back, fucking himself on Álvaro's dick, making him grunt low in his throat and pull hard at Isco's shoulder as he went weak in the knees. Isco was bent over the sofa, bracing himself against the arm. His carpet was uncomfortable beneath his bare feet and he was strangely hyper-sensitive to the rough fibres pressing between his toes. As soon as they came, at the same time, Isco gritting his teeth in complete silence and Álvaro with a whine that sounded like he was going to collapse from the intensity of it, Isco pulled himself away from Morata and started to dress.

"That was a mistake." He said bitingly. His whole body felt flushed and the fleece of his sweats chafed against him in the most agitating way. He couldn't meet Morata's eyes. "Don't you feel even a little bit guilty?"

Álvaro was leaning against the sofa, half sitting, breathing hard and smoothing his hair back from his face. "I don't know." He replied absently, buttoning up his shirt.

"Fuck." Isco said loudly. He threw Álvaro's jacket across the room, his Juventus jacket, and Álvaro caught it in one hand without looking.

"March." He said again, his eyes were still bright from orgasm and the way his hair fanned across his forehead, sticking out at weird angles from his sweaty palms forcing it back, the way his lips pursed and he watched Isco like there was nothing else worth seeing made Isco so unbearably angry he turned away.

"Fuck you."

When Morata hugged him from behind he went stiff at first, was about to shrug him off when Álvaro pulled his shirt over his shoulder, pressed his lips there and left some words to sink into his skin. He went still and then he went weak when his teeth bit into the soft flesh just sharp enough to leave a small mark, and Álvaro held him tighter as his weight went out from under him a bit. He clamped his own mouth shut and swallowed hard. Found his weight again and lightly pulled Álvaro's arms off his torso.

"I'm sorry." Álvaro said again as he slipped into his shoes.

"Stop saying that. You're not." Isco snapped.


	12. Chapter 12

There was a ringing in his ears that only stopped at the sound of his voice.

It was foolish, he knew, everything about it was foolish, but it was like he had opened the flood gates and everything had come pouring out, and now he couldn't seal it shut. And if he were being honest, he didn't want to.

There was a long period of time, years even, that Álvaro had convinced himself that he wasn't into Isco like that. He ignored lingering touches and caressing words, convincing himself it was just friendship. He denied it until he couldn't possibly deny it anymore.

"What are you doing?" He had said the first time Isco had tried to kiss him. He was leaning forward slightly and Álvaro had been leaning too but at the last second his fear had gotten the better of him.

"Oh," Isco replied, watching Álvaro warily as he drew back.

"I'm not--like that." Álvaro had said bracingly. Isco nodded. "Are you?" Álvaro had asked, waited for him to deny it. Instead he nodded again. And he didn't even seem scared that Álvaro would shun him for his honesty, instead he just watched him, like he knew the answer before Álvaro had reached any conclusion. Álvaro glared at him, glanced away.

"Well I'm not." He had insisted.

"Okay." Isco said.

Álvaro crossed his arms and glared the other way, annoyed that Isco refused to carry on pretending.

On away games alone in hotel rooms when Isco was no longer taking his calls, Álvaro lay on his back and remembered the noise Isco had made when he was inside him, he could count on his fingers all the times he pulled Isco apart and he kept them there, gathered them in his palm and used it for warmth.

He thought maybe he could string together phrases that would make things okay again. Like maybe one day he'd be able to put into words the way being in Turin had filled his lungs like too much air and made him feel like if he breathed too deeply they would burst. How Maria's hand in his had let him breathe for a while. He knew that if Isco had to hear this from him he would only be hurt by it. He wasn't sure how to explain that she helped him breathe but she didn't give him life.

And more than that he wasn't sure if he could bring himself to express what Isco means to him. That letting him in had felt like the best decision he'd made in his life, like there was never anything else but to be with him. Like that. To hold his face in his hands and to pinch his hips with two fingers and to clutch him close and feel like letting go and being apart is only ever a temporary interruption. Because whatever else there is somehow revolves around their concurrence.

And there was reality to explain. How his nights were punctuated by bouts of dreamless sleep. Refusing to imagine a future where he had what he wanted by more than just linked fingers, more than just the ghost of a kiss left to linger on your skin, the memory of a fleeting moment that could never be more than that.

It woke something in him, to realize that some things he could only have in partiality. Other things that he could have entirely, he pursued with a hunger that devoured everything it's path. Like his ability to break into the first team, to train to be the best there ever was.

There was something about being able to have something only in pieces that made him grasp for it like each piece was a knot in his back. Like holding them close made his spine straight. He wanted to collect all the fragments of it, not to make them whole but to make them numerous in the hopes that they will add up to something, the sum of which will be enough.

So when he got Isco on the other line there had been a desperation hanging off the end of his words he had meant to set aside.

"Isco, wait." He said when Isco picked up with an abrupt 'stop calling me.'

There was a pause, a deadly silence in which Álvaro knew he had only one chance.

"I thought you were my best friend." It was childish, of all the childish things Isco had made him feel this was perhaps the worst. Something in the pit of his stomach squirmed at how he was behaving but not enough to make him actually regret saying it when he didn't hear the line go dead. The silence stretched on into extra time.

"And I thought you were mine." Isco replied finally.

"I am yours." Álvaro answered quickly. Silence again. Penalty kicks. 

At the last second he realized what Isco had meant and sat up quickly, slamming his head off the wall.

"Your best friend I meant." He groaned through his pain. Isco couldn't stifle his laugh.

"Did you just hit your head?" He asked.

"Yes." Álvaro admitted grumpily, rubbing an already raised bump on the back of his head, the pain spreading like hot liquid down the back of his neck and making his hair feel staticky.

"On what?"

"The wall." A pause. Isco chuckled quietly, Álvaro glared at the spot on the wall that he had struck, as if it had positioned itself there on purpose to harm him.

"Sounded like you hit it pretty hard."

"Yes." Another pause where there was only the sound of Isco moving on the other end of the line, and then his voice came through clearer, closer. As if he had been lying down before when he had intended to just hang up but now was in a better position to talk. As if he had pulled Álvaro closer to him somehow, let him in a bit. 

"Where are you?" There was a quiet resignation in his tone and something wary, like he expected lies.

"My living room." A hard truth.

"Oh."

"You make me do foolish things." Like wake up in the middle of the night and feel unable to lay in bed next to someone that isn't you. Without even picking up the phone, sprawled across a sofa, feet hanging over the end, tossing and turning with no expectation of sleep. Too many bad ideas running through his mind. How could he leave her and be left with nothing? Despite everything, his deepest feeling was that Isco in Spain would never be enough for him.

"None of this is my fault." No, it's mine.

"I meant hitting my head on the wall."

"That's not my fault either."

"If you say so."

"Are you okay?" The way he said it, like he sensed the discordance floating lazily through Álvaro's mind. Like he was asking if his anxiety was in check. There was also something gritty to the question, like he shouldn't ask but felt he had to somehow. Álvaro scrambled to rearrange his thoughts, to sound like someone who isn't falling apart. With no small effort, he dug his heel in, stopped himself from reading so much into every single word he said. Threw up a wall where this frantic need to say everything all at once was making it hard to say anything at all.

"Of course...are you?"

"Not really. Don't say it."

"I wasn't going to." ~~I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry no really I am so damn sorry.~~

"Yes you were."

"I know."

"Sorry means you take responsibility for what you're doing. You realize that right?"

Silence.

"Tell me what I'm meant to do."

Silence.

"I am your best friend."

"Then ask me how my match went."

"How did your match go?"

"Great. A goal and an assist."

"I knew that already. Ask me how mine went."

"How did your match go, Isc?" Something spilled over, a giddiness overcame Álvaro, his words like a hug rolling off his tongue. Old nicknames for his oldest, fondest friend.

"Terribly, I hate that dick Koke." Álvaro laughed loudly. 

"We'll punch him next time we see him how's that?"

"Oh, I'll do more than punch him." 

"Like what?"

"I haven't decided yet."

"Do you think he'll be alright in time to make the squad in March?"

"I hope so, so I can punch him."

"I fucking miss you." Álvaro blurted out before he could stop himself. He expected silence but he didn't get it.

"I miss you too."

They sat with those words for a while, didn't let them become more than that.


	13. Chapter 13

It's not a date if all your straight friends come too.

Or that's what Álvaro had promised. And Isco didn't want to miss out on a game night with the boys because of problems with Álvaro. That was exactly the sort of thing he didn't want. They still had to interact, play on a team together. So he agreed to start the international break in the common area of Koke's hotel suite playing FIFA.

The night flowed easily, a sofa shared by 5, constant scuffles as the 6th person shoved someone else to the floor for a place, a trail of white hotel bed pillows strewn across the room, popcorn in every crevice. Isco and Álvaro were just 2 of the guys, nothing more or less. It was like U21s again.

Sure, things had been strained for the past month. A few more awkward phone conversations where Isco struggled to keep his anger in check, a lot of tense silence. Álvaro still called though. Still ended conversations with 'I'm sorry.' 

Face-to-face Isco's anger was practically non-existent. When Álvaro smiled, he smiled. Sometimes he worried others would notice he laughed too hard at Álvaro's jokes, or fell on the floor in mirth over something Álvaro had done that wasn't even meant to be funny, but to him was so endearingly hilarious. Like the outrage on his face when no one was impressed that he still managed to score while underneath Juanmi who was trying to throw him off the couch. "I couldn't even see the screen!" He protested. Isco fell off the couch onto the floor next to him, and Álvaro forgot his indignation as he aggressively ruffled Isco's hair, pulling him across his lap in the process. Isco didn't miss the glare from Dani as he struggled to disentangle himself from Morata. He felt a little better when next to him Paco seemed completely unaware. Dani looked away, the night continued, everyone was all over each other anyway, what could he say?

Of course, Álvaro being the last one awake with him at the hotel was not exactly what he had thought the night would come to. Or that's what he tells himself.

He blushed a little at the look Dani fixed him with as he backed out of the room leaving Álvaro and Isco alone. Álvaro had stared fixedly at the screen to avoid catching Dani's eye, fiddling with the remote idly, as he had mumbled goodnight. _Sure sure just one more match then I'm crashing too, right behind ya._

As soon as Dani left the room he was struck by this sense of having been waiting for something that had finally arrived, and apprehensively he glanced at Álvaro, who appeared relaxed still, intent on choosing a new team. After a minute or so Álvaro took a cursory look around, as if to check once more that they were alone, then he shifted over on the couch, stretched his arm casually over Isco's side of the sofa. All resolve lost, Isco leaned into him and Álvaro wrapped his arm around his shoulder. The smile on Álvaro's face as he continued to watch the screen made Isco's heart pound and for a second he got scared. He leaned forward and scooped up a waterbottle from the table, scooted to the edge of the sofa as if making to leave. Álvaro's hand squeezed his shoulder, asking him to stay.

"One more. I swear I can beat you this time." Álvaro pleaded, withdrawing his hand as if to show he would behave. He was deadset on winning a game, probably wouldn't be able to sleep till he had. Isco sank back into the pillows they had piled on the hotel sofa to make it more suitable for long hours playing. His thumbs were raw, worrying old calluses from previous game nights. He rubbed his sweaty hand across the edge of the controller and then across his thigh. Álvaro had his tongue between his teeth as he selected a squad, sliding a bowl of popcorn, practically empty, across the table with his foot without looking. He clicked through a number of menus in quick succession then threw the other controller at Isco, who scrambled to catch it and glanced sideways at the screen. "You play first." Álvaro said, shifting on the couch, subtly closer to Isco.

"What do you mean I play first? You selected my team for me? What is this, Antoine Griezmann as my centre forward you're trying to screw me over!" Nonetheless he readied his hands to play. "I'll still win though."

"Let's play fastest to score." Álvaro said. He waved his phone in front of Isco's face to indicate he was timing it. He casually rested his hand on Isco's thigh, and then when Isco didn't protest, let it drift over his crotch, pressed there. Isco felt heat blooming in his face, shifted nervously at first but then he settled back into the sofa, held the converter tighter and stared forward at the screen.

"What are you doing." He said flatly, as if he wasn't getting hard in Álvaro's hand and just playing FIFA.

"You have to try to score before I make you come." Álvaro said in his ear, palming his growing erection. Isco adjusted himself on the sofa again, probably not the best idea as it opened him up and allowed Álvaro to cup his balls making him squirm a little but he kept watching the screen.

"No problem." He replied coyly but he could feel his face getting more red, his heart beating fast. He tried to focus on controlling the players but Álvaro had his lips to his neck. "You can't kiss me too, that's not part of the game!" He complained.

"Fine." Álvaro agreed with chagrin, resting his head on the back of the couch, slipping his hand past Isco's boxers. Isco couldn't stop himself from glancing at him to see if he was aroused. When their eyes met Álvaro grinned shiftily at him, a little bit of self-consciousness brightening his cheeks.

Isco's palms were sweaty but still he watched the game resolutely. Just as we was setting up a play Álvaro flicked his wrist and he lost the ball. Álvaro snickered and settled back into stroking him slowly and Isco had to admit how good he was at this. His grip was loose enough that his attention was drawn to it, his mind itching for more rhythm, a tighter fist. He took a deep breath and resolved to try harder.

This time when he was 1 v 1 with the opposing side's keeper and Álvaro tightened his grip, stroked faster, Isco groaned a little but stay concentrated, there was a split second before he got the shot off where he despaired that the handjob would stop once he scored but still he went through with it. 

"Ha!" He exclaimed, a little half-heartedly as Álvaro's hand didn't stop between his legs. "It's your turn." He grunted after a small pause.

"We both play at the same time then." Álvaro said. His stroke faltered as he leaned across Isco for the other converter. With his right hand he started up a game. Isco moved closer and rubbed his hand over Álvaro's hard-on, causing an intake of breath from Álvaro immediately. He reached his hand down his pants and Álvaro smiled crookedly, biting his lip, eyes bright. They were both quietly concentrated on either the game or being jerked off, or both, the only noise their breathing a little heavier than usual and impatiently shifting legs. Trying to do both was frustrating when more and more all you wanted to do was blow your load.

They hardly noticed that Isco scored first as Isco got distracted by darts of pleasure starting to increase in the pit of his stomach, one of his feet tapping out a rhythm on the table. Finally Álvaro scored a goal and whooped loudly as his hand tightened around Isco. Quickly Isco yanked his shirt up and his sweats down and stroked Álvaro more steadily. "Yes." Álvaro said, either to the game or to Isco, he wasn't sure.

When he was close to coming he let his player roam in odd directions around the pitch because he wanted to watch Álvaro's hand. He started stroking Álvaro more persistently as he felt his muscles tensing. Álvaro somehow managed to score again at the same time that Isco came on his stomach, his hand jerking and making Isco groan, but after a small strangled celebratory noise he quickly yanked his pants down too. "Fuck." He said as Isco stroked faster and Álvaro's hand grabbed a fistful of Isco's shirt.

"You're gunna come faster than I did." Isco said, slowing his hand. Álvaro huffed a laugh. He wrapped his hand around Isco's and guided his hand in a faster motion. 

"I was using my left hand." Álvaro said as Isco fondled his balls and he moaned, eyes snapping open as he glanced around the room, remembering they were in a common area. He closed his eyes again and threw his head back as Isco stroked quickly, leaned over and kissed his neck, sucked and nipped a little bit. Álvaro pinched one of Isco's nipples hard as he came on his shirt which he had forgotten to move. Isco kept sucking hard on his neck for a few seconds as Álvaro breathed heavily. When he stopped there was a big red mark. He made a face that Álvaro didn't see and stripped off his shirt, which Álvaro had shifted around so that it got soiled. Álvaro rubbed the spot on his neck that Isco had left then stripped his own shirt off.

"If anyone comes in now, it's hot in here." He said as he grabbed some tissue. Isco lay across the couch on his back and smiled at the thought of Álvaro seeing his neck in the mirror later.

Álvaro pulled his pants back up and and lifted Isco's legs so they were resting across his lap, placing his forearms across his shins and leaning forward in a sort of half hug. Isco crossed his arms behind his head and smiled contentedly.

"I won everything." He gloated.

"I think we're all winners here." Álvaro said with a laugh. He was practically buzzing with excitement when Álvaro keyed up was not something you got often. There was a moment of comfortable silence, then: "Are we alright? You and I?"

"I don't know." Isco said right away, he closed his eyes and checked out of the conversation.

"Isco..."

"Can we skip this? I know, I know, 'Isco doesn't talk about anything.' I don't care right now. I'm happy right here."

There was silence and when Isco finally opened his eyes again, Álvaro was regarding him with a kind of frantic gleam just behind the calm facade. He looked for a moment like he was considering doing something, fear and indecision darting back and forth, but then he realized Isco was watching him and chuckled, drummed his hands on Isco's legs and looked away.

"I don't know how I'm meant to fall asleep." He complained. But Isco was already drifting away.


	14. Chapter 14

Isco was glad the next morning started with a team meeting since he was exhausted. He was a little disappointed when Álvaro ambled into the conference room some time after him and without even looking for him sat down next to Koke. Isco tried not to think he saw something angry in his expression when he looked back at them, flicking a quick wave at Koke who had noticed him looking before swiveling back to face the front. It was probably best they didn't spend a lot of time together.

But still at lunch he sought him out, sat down next to him, rested a hand on his knee that Álvaro methodically brushed aside with a warning glare. Although it was jarring at first when Isco was so used to affection, it wasn't hard to fall back into the pattern of him swooning like a puppy and Álvaro being wary of onlookers. He put his hands in his own lap and smiled apologetically, but Álvaro still looked disgruntled.

"Still tired?" Isco asked when they had eaten in silence for a while. Álvaro made a non-commital noise in response. They continued in silence, Álvaro sitting stiff backed, oddly concentrated on his food. When he finished eating he stood in a swift but jerky motion, didn't even look in Isco's direction as he stalked away.

It continued in training, with Álvaro subtly but plainly avoiding Isco until he got the message and stopped trying to be close to him, trying to ignore how obvious Koke was being, following Álvaro around the same as him. Only Álvaro didn't brush Koke off.

When he stopped by his hotel room for a moment of solitude before the evening press junket he allowed himself a moment for the anxiety to take over. He leaned with two fists on the desk in his room and stared out the window into the pale blue of the changing sky. The clouds were all sharp angles, like rockets zooming around in short bursts, leaving behind lines of weak white smoke in their wake. They shot off into darker purples like it bruised the sky, stars touched the edges. He breathed heavily and stared instead at the deep mahogany of the desk.

He berated himself for being this upset over Álvaro's moodiness. Like it was something new to him. Like it fucking mattered at all. He was supposed to be the one angry, not Álvaro. He shouldn't be following him around, begging him for attention, nervously trying to read his moods. This was good, let him be on his own, focus on his girlfriend, forget about what they had.

His frenetic heart rate was making him light headed and anxious, so he forced himself to sit and traced spirals across the hotel notepad. It felt for all the world like he was losing a cherished possession. It provoked this gut-reaction in him, like someone kicking out his chair legs, flailing out wildly and trying to grasp what was slipping violently away from him. He didn't know how to stop feeling it.

He just couldn't figure out what had changed so drastically between last night, their heavy breathing and clumsy hands all over each other, to this cold deference he was receiving today. And he was kicking himself for not being the one to stand his ground all along. That it was Álvaro and in such a confusing fashion made Isco more frustrated than anything. Or he tried to tell himself that as the spirals on the notepad became loopier. If Álvaro wanted to play, he could play. It's only encouragement for him to do what he had meant to do all along, which was to pretend Álvaro meant nothing to him instead of going weak in his presence. It didn't matter why, what mattered was that this was the way things should be. Clearly they can't just stay friends and somehow Álvaro had come to this same conclusion. So be it.

He forgot to glance at his reflection in the mirror on his way out the door. He would have to go through make-up anyway.

His commitment to holding his ground in Álvaro's presence lasted less than an hour. They were paired together for a video segment and Álvaro, often struck by nerves in front of the camera, was goofy and open towards Isco, standing close to him as they waited their turn, talking quickly and animatedly. He kept absently flattening his hair which Isco was instructed to stop him from doing and so at one point he was holding Álvaro at the elbow to keep his arm pinned to his side. Álvaro just smiled nervously and kept talking. Seeing Álvaro like this made Isco feel giddy, breathing in the heady scent of him, a mix of his starchy almost feminine smelling cologne and perspiration, all notions of stony indifference forgotten. 

He was so entranced by Álvaro's presence he couldn't get his lines straight but he didn't even mind because it made Álvaro more comfortable. His tongue felt thick as he tried to deliver the lines between Álvaro's giggles next to him. He should have drew the line when Álvaro compared him to James, who has a speech impediment but in his own case of nerves he laughed at every word out of Álvaro's mouth. He could have said his lines perfectly without missing a beat and Isco still would have found it hilarious. 

As they left the press area and wandered vaguely in the direction of the hotel area again, it was like an enchantment was wearing off. Álvaro was drawing more and more back into himself, and their conversation tapered off.

"Why did you make that joke?" Isco said finally, a last ditch attempt to keep Álvaro engaged.

"Which?" He asked flatly, like he didn't really care.

"About James. You know he has a stutter right? He can't help it."

"James." Álvaro repeated, he said his name wrong intentionally, the Spanish inflection that James didn't like. The word was like poison in his mouth.

"He's a really nice guy." Isco said quietly after a beat. Álvaro stopped walking.

"It was a joke. Chill." 

"It's just not really that funny." 

"And yet you laughed."

"Yeah." Silence. "You don't like James but you don't even know him." Isco pressed. He didn't even care really, why should it matter to him or James if Álvaro wants to hold some sort of grudge, but it was forcing some sort of reaction out of Álvy so he kept prodding.

"It's hard to like someone that your former teammates seem to value over you." Álvaro snapped.

"I don't value James over you, Álvaro, what the fuck, that doesn't even make sense, it's --"

"Not you." Álvaro interrupted uneasily. He turned to start walking but Isco grabbed his arm. Álvaro stopped walking, turned and glanced at Isco's hand on him but Isco didn't move.

"What are you talking about, Álvy?" Álvaro tried to turn away but Isco held fast. He didn't struggle, just stopped at the edge of Isco's grasp. Isco's anger was back, anger at the injustice of Álvaro taking his moods out on him, and he held him harder than he intended. Something in the clench of Isco's jaw made Álvaro remain in his grip instead of putting up a fight. They stood like that until finally Álvaro answered. 

"Piqué." He supplied, and when Isco just looked at him blankly he continued. "Geri was commenting on how important James has been to the team this season." He misprounced his name again. "Iker called him indispensible." Álvaro was staring fixedly at the floral print in the carpet, tracing the curve of a petal with his eyes, his chin dipping slightly with the movement.

"You know Geri was just fishing for information about Cris, right? He still fucking worships Ronaldo, it's hilarious." At Cristiano's name Álvaro ripped his arm away but instead of leaving he just stood there, surprised at his own reaction maybe. "Nobody is indispensible." Isco continued. "Iker was just being nice."

"Right." Álvaro laughed derisively at the idea of Iker saying something purely out of kindness. "But he meant it though, he wouldn't have said it if he didn't."

"He didn't say it about me though, did he? You don't see me throwing a fit." Isco said, and regretted it immediately when Álvaro winced. 

"You're still on the squad though, clearly they need you."

"You wanted to leave!" Isco exclaimed. This was a topic they had steadfastedly avoided for well over 8 months now. There was nothing to be said. It was a career choice, the right one inevitably. It stung but nobody could argue with that. He hadn't meant to say it, to bring it up, but the resentment that Álvaro was pushing onto him was unfair. Álvaro was glaring at him now and Isco kept his expression steady in return. 

As usual, Álvaro broke the stand-off first. His expression dropped off into churlish indifference, he shrugged. 

"You know, there's a world outside Madrid." He sneered. At first Isco didn't reply. Too many rude rebuttals crossed his mind to trust himself to open his mouth, but the cruelty must have shown in his expression because Álvaro's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Is that why you've still got one foot in the door?" Isco spat. But Álvaro was already turning away, no parting retort, just left him with anger and hurt and a lot of harsh words that hardly even made sense. Yet somehow they still made Isco feel like shit. He swallowed hard and bit back the overwhelming feeling that the thing he loved most in the world was walking away from him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't mean to write off Álvaro being a bit of an asshat: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lIrX3yHgP34  
> But I do think to Isco he doesn't understand why it matters or why James would be bothered. When it comes to teasing, Isco dishes it out and takes it in the same breath.
> 
> March was a bitter month.


	15. Chapter 15

Isco would never admit it, but if Álvaro's intention was to make the rest of his international break miserable, he had succeeded. What's more, Isco had a lot more on his mind than just this stupid situation with this moody boy and piling that on top just made him feel sluggish, like he was seeing everything through a fog, trying to do his best but muffled by everything so that it just made him feel overwhelmingly tired.

He managed though, convincingly, he thought. Well on his way to assuring everyone he could not only play alongside Iniesta but could one day suitably replace him. Him and the rest of the younger players Del Bosque was giving a chance had done well for themselves. Even Álvaro.

When he scored Isco felt nothing but jubilation for his friend. They had avoided each other since their talk but when Álvaro's first goal made Isco, embarrassingly, fiercely proud. He forgot in a moment his anger and hugged Álvaro like he always did, only Álvy went stiff in his arms, hardly smiled at his own achievement. Isco's heart pounded in his ears and guilt wracked his nerves. Had he made Álvaro feel so badly he couldn't even be happy for himself? It was stupid; it was terrible, unhealthy thinking but it worried Isco to his core, the idea that he was causing Álvy any unhappiness. Whatever else between him, he realized with a certainty so complete it alarmed him that nothing was more important than Álvaro's happiness.

"Are you alright?" He mumbled anxiously at Álvaro's shoulder as they left for the first half. "You fucking did it, Álvy, you're here. You're finally fucking here." His eagerness to convince them both that happiness was surrounding them on all sides, choking them off, muffling them, made his words take on this odd intensity that made him blush. And the look Álvaro fixed him with made him wince. A sneer, like he was the most foolish boy in the world.

"I thought we weren't speaking." He snapped. But when he saw isco's face fall he caught himself finally and he looked away, but not before Isco saw the despair there.

"So fucking what, I can't congratulate you on your first senior goal? Or worry that you don't even seem happy about it?" Luckily somewhere between he found his head again and adopted a rational anger.

"I am happy about it." Álvaro insisted.

"Well you've got a funny way of showing it." Álvaro just stared at him in this weird, confused way, like he wasn't seeing Isco at all but something else entirely.

"Why are you spending so much time with Juanmi." He said finally, quietly but steadily. He hadn't wanted to admit it but he didn't want to seem embarrassed now that he had.

"Because you aren't speaking to me." Isco replied. The question didn't deserve the honesty; Álvaro didn't deserve the honesty. "Why are you spending so much time with Koke."

"Because I'm not speaking to you." Álvaro replied slowly, a crooked grin as he worked it out in his head. He finally had the decency to look embarrassed.

They stood side by side through Del Bosque and then Fábregas speaking to the team, Álvaro standing unconsciously close to Isco, and Isco trying hard to be unconscious of this fact.

"And why aren't you speaking to me." Isco asked as the team broke to head back to the tunnel.

"I don't know." Álvaro admitted sheepishly. "Isco..."

And then it was happening all over again, Álvaro was apologizing. Isco had unintentionally shouldered the weight of Álvaro's mood, allowed Álvaro in when he was supposed to be closing him out. Moving on from the idea of anything more than friendship.

"Congratulations on your debut goal, Morata." Isco said abruptly. They embraced awkwardly in the tunnel, with Koke appearing suddenly at Alvaro's shoulder to regard them suspiciously. Álvaro was briefly confused when Isco shoved him away with a grin as Koke, instead of catching him, stumbled backwards, both of them nearly falling down the stairs.

"Now now boys, you can celebrate later." Sergio said sagely, and they all stared at him a moment before he grinned broadly and play boxed Álvaro in the ribs, Álvaro completely forgetting to swat him away in his astonishment as Sergio said, "Nice goal, Villa" with a jaunty wink for Isco and Koke and ridiculous jovial smile. Iker passed them in his wake, nodding at them with a steady gaze that seemed apologetic almost for his skipper.

"Congrats, Álvaro, it's about time you prove the unbelievers wrong." The way he said it made it clear he didn't count himself among the ones who didn't put faith in Álvaro's talent. Álvaro just stared in shock, and it shouldn't have made Isco grin as widely as it did. Whatever else, he had already established that Morata's happiness was important to him.

After that they still kept a distance, but it wasn't as cool as before. They didn't mind moments where they'd find themselves side-by-side in a group of people, sharing sheepish looks like they hadn't meant to stand just there. Isco kept his hands to himself for once.

They lost their last match of the break, those damn Dutchmen, but it wasn't all bad.

That night Álvaro showed up at Isco's door. It felt familiar, the fighting and making up, in a way that made Isco's stomach churn.

"Honestly, Álvaro, your mood swings are giving me whiplash." Isco said as he stood aside to let Álvaro in with a sigh. Álvaro's eyes were bright and there was a bounce in his step that was familiar to him.

"Are you seriously quoting Twilight at me?" Álvaro said incredulously, stepping close to Isco.

"I didn't know there was a character called Álvaro in Twilight." Isco replied. Álvaro laughed in his ear, he kept his hands off but he was closer than was friendly, willing Isco to tell him with his body that it was okay to proceed. Isco moved away. "I'm serious, Álvy. You get mad at me over something Iker said, not me, Iker. And then when Casillas takes it back, we're good again?"

"Come on, Isc, it's not like that." Álvaro tried to move towards him again but Isco stopped him with an upturned palm.

"Then tell me what it's like." He said flatly. Álvaro regarded him with his jaw clenched stubbornly before cutting his glare sideways. "You are so childish." Isco told him.

"I can't help it." Álvaro mumbled through gritted teeth. They stood like that until Álvaro finally looked back at Isco and he saw it there, fear and anxiety and something else, frantic and desperate and pleading with him to understand. Isco realized he had made a mistake, was making a mistake trying to make Álvaro be honest with him. The things he wanted him to share were not things that Álvaro shared with his friends.

"I know." Isco said finally, which was not entirely the right way forward. "But you can't treat me like this." Isco continued. "And I hope you don't treat Maria like this either." It pained him, but he forced himself to say her name.

"Maria?" Álvaro said it like the name carried no significance to him. "Isco, I--"

"When we were just friends you never really took your moods out on me. Maybe you don't realize you're doing it. To the people you like, care about or whatever." He finished lamely. Álvaro opened his mouth, thought better of it, and closed it again. "I'm just saying, you should make sure you're not hurting her. She seems like a nice lady." He fought against the burning in his ears. "The 4 of us should meet up like we promised. And Junior too." He could feel colour rising on his neck, tried to make it look casual as he braced himself on the wall, with his back, not his hands. Those were shaking.

"Yeah, that sounds like a pleasant night out." Álvaro said sarcastically.

"You have a fucking girlfriend Álvaro, why don't you man up and start acting like it." He shoved back hard with his words.

"What am I meant to do." Álvaro said after a sullen silence, an echo of words spoke at a different time.

"Be honest with her and with me, for starters." Isco replied, though he wasn't entirely sure he wanted any of this. He sat down on the bed, suddenly exhausted.

"And then what, Isco?" Álvaro said, an air of being reasonable about him. "She leaves me and sells our story to the press, effectively ending both of our careers."

"Why are you dating someone that would do that."

"Anyone would do that, or at least consider it. All I'm saying is that there's a risk." Isco didn't reply. "And then she packs her bags and my apartment in Turin is empty but for ghosts." Álvaro says, almost to himself.

"Are you really that afraid of being alone." Isco says more bluntly than he had intended.

"Yes." Álvaro replies, probably with more honesty than he had intended.

"You have friends at Juventus." Isco insists.

"Yes." Álvaro agrees. They sit in silence a while, Álvaro sits on the bed beside Isco, leans his weight on his arms so his legs hang over the side, a childish paddle with his feet against the edge of the bed.

"Well like I said, bring her to Madrid and Vito and I will treat you both to a night out." Isco said after a while. Álvaro just watched Isco for a while, and Isco watched him back.

He should have moved away when Álvaro leaned forward but he met him halfway, breathed him in, the familiar smell of him he knew so well and took so much comfort in. Álvaro kissed him, tongue parting his lips for only the briefest of moments. Before the kiss could deepen Álvaro broke it off and got to his feet.

"I'm not sure I'll do that." Álvaro said. "Good night, Isc." He said as he paused at the door.

"'Night." Isco mumbled quickly, he stood up as Alvaro disappeared into the hallway and felt dizzy for a moment at how quickly things had spun around twice. The smug look Álvaro imparted before letting the door swing shut was both beautiful and infuriating.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably preface this by saying that my partner of 5 years broke up with me in a 10 minute phone conversation during the process of writing this chapter. Suffice it to say the chapter took on quite a different direction after that.

There was a vase of dead roses above Isco's sink. Like really dead, brown and flaking off, the petals littering the window ledge and turning to dust. The sun had filtered through them destructively, made them filmy and transluscent. Not the maid, the nanny, nor Vic had thought to throw them away. Like they knew they meant something to him. The thought of this made him uncomfortable. His phone is on silent all the time now, he hardly accepts calls. Carlotti started benching him sometimes, he's not sure why. Maybe it's the way his feet drag sometimes in training, that when he is not so quick to smile as usual it correlates to how much energy he puts into a training session. The other day he was subjected to a dope test. Does he really look as numb as he feels?

There wasn't even a point in keeping his phone on silent. He never called. And then when he did he took the call anyway.

"You are indispensible." Álvaro said before Isco could say a word. 

"Yeah? Why's he benching me then." Exhausted, Isco scrubbed a hand across his face, leaned against the frame of the door when he had meant to pace.

"Ancelotti isn't Madrid, Isc. Don't be stupid." Álvaro replied fiercely. 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means he's foolish to play you out of position to incorporate these other players, and I'm not the only one saying this."

"So you're blaming James then. Looks like nothing's changed."

"That's not what I--Look--Wait--Fuck, just listen for a minute okay?" He waited to hear that Isco was listening. "I don't know what to say beyond the same thing I always say. I heard you were feeling a bit down, I wanted to call you. You're my friend and if you're having a bad time of it, I'm here for you, yeah?"

"Thanks." Isco said honestly.

"I told her." Alvaro said without preamble.

"Told who what?" 

"Maria. That I was--you know."

"Holy shit. What happened? Alvy?" There was an odd amount of silence across the line that made Isco think for a second the connection had been dropped.

"She--" Another pause. "She said she had suspected there was someone for a while. And she was, like, disappointed or whatever, that I didn't come to her sooner." Isco could hear it in his voice, this terrible sadness. He knew if he could see him right now his eyes would be fixed maddeningly on something, anything, clinging to this out of focus object like his last connection with the world. When he was bearably anxious, he had many nervous ticks; kicking his leg against something over and over and over again, patting down all of the stray pieces of his hair, and finger tapping to name a few. But when his nerves were stretched beyond what was able to control with small muscle distractions, he went completely stiff. Closed off completely, and Isco had never known how to reach him.

"Why?" 

"Sorry?"

"Why did you tell her." 

"I don't understand what you're asking. It's like we talked about, Isc." 

"I know that but I want to hear you say why." Alvaro paused as he considered an answer.

"I mean it wasn't right on her, was it?" He began. He paused like Isco was supposed to agree but Isco didn't reply. "And I care about her, so. I didn't want to be hurting her any longer with lies."

"Right." Silence. "So now what."

"Well she asked me if I was going to stop, change my ways." Silence.

"And? What did you say?"

"I said I didn't know." Isco always thought that if Alvaro ever told him he broke things off with Maria he would feel a bit guilty about the joy that would engulf his heart. But in that moment all of the energy drained out of him, he picked absently at his nails and imagined biting his knuckle until it bled. "Isco." Alvaro said into the silence that Isco hadn't even realized they were sitting in.

"What." He said flatly.

"I need to see you."


	17. Maria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter deserves a title.

Isco on the phone was an infuriatingly unproductive exercise. It was impossible to gauge what he was thinking and it was easy for him to hide his emotions behind the withholding of words.

"Alvaro, what am I supposed to think of you leaving like this? Are you going to see her?" Maria. As he lugged a bag down the stairs and dropped it down in the front hallway. He glanced around for the shoes he wanted to wear before finally looking at her. She perched on the knotted head of the bannister and regarded him owlishly, her delicate limbs swathed in thick wools and her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail that he always loved to see her with. She had been upset for a few days now. She held herself together well, but small things only Alvaro would pick up on betrayed what she was feeling. Her face was pale and drawn and she had gone to great pains to cover the dark bruises under her eyes. From crying. Or lack of sleep. Or both. He wasn't sure. He was sleeping on the sofa and she would never let him see her cry. She had tried to keep her voice steady but he could hear a frantic buzz threatening to bubble over. 

"Have you seen my sneakers? Those Nike ones I like to wear on the plane?" 

"Alvaro!" She shouted it, and as soon as she did she covered her mouth in shock. The noise echoed harshly, bouncing off the high ceilings and the cathedral windows looking out over the second floor. She choked back a sob but stared resolutely at him.

"What do you want me to say, Mia." 

"Don't you dare call me that. I want you to answer what I've asked you, Alvaro." He regarded her with a sadness in his heart that he didn't deserve. It wasn't his sadness to hold. But he held it anyway. Finally he nodded and she looked away.

"Yes, I am going to see her. I need to figure out...things." He said awkwardly. She laughed derisively and tapped her nail on the railing.

"So she doesn't live in Italy? Where does she live, Spain? How long have you been going behind my back?" 

"Since October." He said honestly. 

"October." The word seemed to physically rock her, she stepped back on her left foot as if she had been shoved and was recovering her balance. She covered her mouth with folds of warm off-white wool. "Why would you let me move here? Why would you beg me to pick up my entire life, Alvaro, and move here to Italy to support you, if you were only planning to break my heart in a few months?" 

_I'm so sorry._

"I don't deserve to defend myself. Everything you say is true. I've hurt you and I don't know how to fix it. I'm sorry." He slipped into the only shoes sitting by the door and stooped to pick up his bag. They stood awkwardly in the corridor on the precipice between leaving and staying, between his life with Maria and his pursuit of Isco. 

"Are you coming back?" She asked him finally, and he winced. The thought hadn't even occurred to him. He was struck once again by how badly he had hurt her and destroyed everything they had. He wished he could change the way he felt, because being happy with her had been the most effortless thing he had in his life.

"Do you want me to come back?" 

"I don't know, Alvaro. I should say no, I shouldn't want you to come back." 

"Then you should say it." 

"I can't." She said, so quietly he almost didn't hear it. Two tears streamed down each cheek and she blinked as more fell but she didn't look away. He stepped towards her and when she didn't protest, he put his bag on the stairs, put an arm on her shoulder. "Don't." She said finally, turning away, brushing tears from her chin.

"Maria." 

"What, Alvaro." She said with an air of defeat. Her voice broken but still incredibly sweet. 

"I'm so sorry, Maria. I never ever ever meant to hurt you. It's hard to believe, and I don't deserve to say it, but you mean so much to me. So much. If I could be different. I would." He was headed close to an edge he wasn't prepared to look out over, catching himself at the last second. "I'm so thankful to have you in my life. You've been so good to me, you've made me so much better than I was."

"Then why would you do this to me." He didn't have an answer to that. Since the night he had told her, they had discussed things on and off but she hadn't made any decisions, she hadn't asked him to go, or told him it was over. He had confessed it over dinner one night, delivered casually and making her pause with a fork of food halfway towards her mouth. He had asked the chef to prepare her favourite meal, like it was some sort of ceremony. He hadn't even known what her favourite food was but the chef had known. He knew now that it was salmorejo (or was it gazpacho) and a strange salad with raw salmon and this thick creamy dressing that Alvaro wouldn't touch. Alvaro knew that Isco, if left to his own devices, would eat breakfast foods for every meal. They had sat at the table for hours that night and he spent most of it dodging questions by telling her that knowing about the person would only make her more upset. She had assumed it was a woman. He didn't correct her. And here was another question he didn't have the answer to. He shrugged, trying not to look sullen because his sadness was still undeserved. "Do you still love me?" 

"Yes." He admitted, and the truth of it struck him a way it hadn't before. He did love Maria, he loved her a lot. Hurting her was a terrible thing, he only wishes he could have realized earlier how cruel he was being (foolish, certainly, but empathy is not one of his strong suits) to save her all of this pain. Tears came unbidden to her again, she shook her head and tried to brush them away. He bit his lip and frowned, tried to swallow but it stuck in his throat. He turned away from her to cough.

"And do you love her?"

"I don't know." When would the lies end?

"I hope you do, Alvaro. She better mean a whole lot to you to make you hurt me like this. She better need you more than I do." 

"I'm sorry, I have to catch my flight." 

"I want you to come home, Alvaro. If you want to." She told him. 

"Maria." He said, because he didn't know what else to say. He was crying now, he didn't know what to do.

"If you come back to me, we will try to come to a conclusion. If you tell me that you choose me, I have to decide if I want to stay. I don't know what to think right now, but I hope you come home." He hugged her then, swallowed a sob as she pressed herself against him, breathed deeply against his collarbone. She smelled like the watermelon lip gloss she told him she had been using since she was a girl. He knew that it was her favourite reminder of the home he had asked her to leave. She tended to apply it more often when she was feeling homesick. "Wait." She said as he turned to go. She disappeared down the hallway and returned with his shoes. "I had them washed for you." She told him as he put them on.

"Thanks," He replied after clearing his throat. She nodded, a ghost of a smile flitted across her face. He would have never remembered to wash them before his next trip, and on the way home last he had stepped ankle deep in a puddle and nearly fallen. They had both been soaked to the skin, laughing and kissing in the backseat as water dripped down Alvaro's crown and tickled their foreheads, a thumb smear of mud across Maria's cheekbone from when he shot his hand out to catch himself on the dirty side of the van.

He walked out the door then, unsure whether he would ever be coming back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bastard should have said 'I don't know' and 'yes' in a different order....
> 
> I can't decide why he cried. Was it because he couldn't bring himself to say he wouldn't come home, or was it because he was touched by her forgiveness and wished with all his heart they could make it work...


	18. Chapter 18

It was raining when Isco opened his door to find Alvaro on the other side, not even bothering to stand close enough to the cover of the house to prevent the rain falling down over his head. There was a sense of urgency about him, one day off to come here and--? Well, Isco had no idea what was going on.

"Hi." He said, a little disarmed by how miserable Alvaro looked. Alvaro just looked at him blankly, lifted his arm as if to say, hello, I'm standing out here in the rain for you, let me in. So he did. Alvaro walked in and threw his bag down rather violently.

"I don't know what the fuck I'm doing." He said loudly. "I've fucked everything up." He continued. Isco tried to find some calmness within himself to share between the pair of them.

"You haven't." He insisted. He placed a hand on Alvaro's chest, unzipped his jacket for him, forcing him to hold still. Alvaro looked down at him then, this look on his face like he was trying desperately to find himself here, in this moment. "It's alright. You're here now." Isco told him, without really knowing what he meant. It seemed to calm him down. "Come and have a drink." He said, and Alvaro didn't wait for him to lead the way before kicking off his shoes and leaving wet footprints on his way to the kitchen. He dropped into his usual spot at Isco's kitchen table and covered his face in his arms.

"Oh god." He said as Isco fixed them drinks. Isco set a glass of ice water down and sat across from him, still unsure what to do or what was going on.

"Alvaro, has something happened?" He asked uncertainly. It was a while before Alvaro answered him, and there was something emanating from him that told Isco to wait. He was shivering, from the cold or something else, but besides that remained completely still. Isco recognized the posture.

"I never meant to hurt anyone." He said, taking a gulp of water, swirling the contents of his glass.

"Of course not." Isco said earnestly.

"I can't do this, Isco." Alvaro said, finally looking at him then. His eyes were rimmed in red and he looked terrified and completely overwhelmed. The strong reactions made Isco want to say and do everything in his power to make it stop. Something in him realized that doing that would make him miserable, and he pushed himself to act in the interest of himself.

"Do what, Alvy." He said slowly. The words were forced, he would have been more than happy to just stop there. Let whatever was going to happen, happen, without intervention from himself or his own emotions.

"She's at home, waiting for me."

"You came all the way here to tell me that?"

"No." Isco waited. "I came here to figure out what I need." He said.

"And you've figured it out." Isco said tonelessly.

"No, I haven't figured it out at all." Alvaro replied. Alvaro looked at him then, wildly and miserably and fondly. It made Isco feel nauseous. Alvaro waited for him to speak, and that's when Isco realized the figuring out was all his. He glanced around, suddenly feeling trapped.

"This is too much for me, Alvaro."

"I think I knew that before I got here." Alvaro replied, slumping over the table.

Instead of sharing Isco's calm, Alvaro's tension was shuddering through the small kitchen. Isco couldn't help but feeling he had started this tidal wave, that he had pushed Alvaro to do something that neither of them were ready for, and never would be. Why should Alvaro have to be alone when they could never be together?

"I'm so sorry." Isco said, for the first time it was him apologizing. Alvaro looked at him then, something behind his eyes seemed to clear.

"I can fix it." He said a bit fanatically. "I can fix it, and we can go back to how things were before." The most frustrating part was that there was this unavoidable standoff between Isco and Maria. Whatever else, Isco didn't feel right going behind her back, even though Alvaro seemed to have no problem with it. "I'll tell her I chose her and everything will be fine."

"If you choose her, you choose her." Isco said slowly. Alvaro glared.

"We've been through this so many times, there's no other option." There was something scathing in Alvaro's tone that made Isco angry.

"Then there's no other option but for you to go home to her and we end things." And furthermore, this barefaced discussion of their relationship was making Isco nervous. "I won't be the other person, Alvaro. It's not fair on anyone."

"Then what will you be?" Alvaro snapped, abruptly standing up. He walked to the counter, braced his arms over the sink and glared out the window. Isco couldn't even see properly out of it, it was too tall.

"I'll be your friend Alvaro, as always." At first Alvaro didn't move, just stared out the window, his posture stiff, eyes closed. "Alvy..." Isco got up to stand beside Alvaro, who still didn't move. Isco thought about placing an arm on his back but decided to give him space. After a moment Alvaro answered without looking up.

"I don't want you to be my friend." He replied.

"It's all we've got."

"It doesn't have to be." Alvaro turned to him, grabbed him by the waist and pulled him close so quickly it took Isco's breath away. He blushed, but Alvaro was completely unabashed. He pressed their foreheads together and breathed him in, his fingers were pressing hard into the soft spots above Isco's hipbones. The room had narrowed down to Alvaro's clenched hands and rain drops striking the window behind them. There was a long silence in which nothing had to be anything. It was just this moment, everything that was flowing between them, everything that had happened before and could happen after. But then Isco swallowed and it wasn't a sob but it could have been. But it wasn't.

"Do you love her? Answer me this time." Isco met his eyes and held them there, but couldn't find any answer in Alvaro's bright eyes. He saw genuine affection, but he didn't think it was at the thought of Maria. A sob threatened again as he considered the possibility that it was for her.

"I don't know Isco, that's not the point. I don't want to be alone." Alvaro answered with exasperation. What the hell did 'I don't know' mean? Did it mean yes but he wouldn't say it, not here, not to Isco? He felt sick, his throat felt dry and his head and heart ached. Mostly it made him tired, to feel this way, so often.

_And do you love me?_

"I would be alone to be with you." Isco said quietly. Something in him shook to say those words, he pretended he was somewhere else, someone else, that he wasn't saying things he never wanted to say. Because it hurt to be so open about his feelings and to make such a demand. But there was nothing else for it.

"I would never force you to be alone." And that was it. Their impasse. One that had no hopes of ever changing.

"And neither will I." Isco said, there was a moment when he held Alvaro's forearms in his hands and he pressed them there so that Alvaro was clutching him so hard it hurt, clutching him so hard that when he undressed alone later he would find the faintest bruises that reminded him that he had someone in his life that held him like there was nothing else in the world worth holding onto. Someone whose fingers he would pry away from him, marks left that he would pretend not to see because it scared him half to death. He pulled Alvaro's hands away, and he let go willingly, watched Isco step away from him, never made him give up a damn thing or even give anything unwillingly. Even though Isco was leaving him Alvaro was grinning at him like he had heard the opposite of what Isco said.

"One for the road?" Alvaro asked, and then Isco kissed him.

"This is the last time." Isco said, crowding Alvaro up against the kitchen sink. He kissed him again, tongues swirling and he was already undressing Alvaro, his hands up Alvaro's shirt, running his fingers across his skin.

"Not here." Alvaro said, but he was kissing back, pressing back, reaching everywhere, pulling him closer. Quickly Isco pulled him by his hand towards the bedroom. It seemed both inappropriate and poetic to finish things off in the bed they had never shared before.

"This is all there is." Isco said as Alvaro pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed, climbing on top of him and grinding down in a way he'd never done before. Isco surged up to meet him, everything felt like fire. Alvaro kissed him lightly, drawing back as Isco tried to press closer. He watched Isco's face as he rolled his hips and Isco strained to meet him.

"If this is it, tell me what you want." Alvaro said. Isco tried to kiss him again but Alvaro drew back at the last second so their lips just brushed.

"I want to kiss you." Isco said. Alvaro smiled, kissed him deep and rolled his hips slowly so that Isco sighed.

"Boring." Alvaro muttered between kisses. Isco held Alvaro's face between his hands and kissed him firmly, was annoyed by the lack of urgency in Alvaro's movements.

"I want you to shove your dick in my mouth." Isco told him fiercely. There was a short scuffle as Isco slid off the bed onto his knees and he finally had Alvaro rushing to undo his pants. He slid them down over his thighs and Isco waited for Alvaro to guide himself so that the head of his dick brushed his lips. He sucked on th head until Alvaro sighed, urged him deeper. Isco took him into his throat, his throat closing around him as he gagged on the length of him and Alvaro was pushing deep for a moment before pulling back again. "Is this what you want for our last time?" Isco asked him as he swallowed. "I'll take your load in my throat and we will say goodbye." He said, his whole body buzzing. He could take him like this. He would take him and they would part ways and it couldn't end better than him taking this one more time. Alvaro thrust into Isco's mouth again as Isco's hand jerked him off at the same time, reaching back to press against the spot just behind his balls so that Alvaro was both surging forward and jolting backwards with a whine.

"Wait." Alvaro insisted. He pulled out with a hiss and ran his hands across Isco's clothed body, and despite the fabric he shuddered. Alvaro's hand paused over his nipples, palms pressed into his ribcage and they kissed despite the fact that Isco probably tasted like dick. They moved back so they were both lying on the bed and Alvaro pulled Isco's thigh over him so they were entwined. "I want to fuck you, hard enough that you'll remember me for days." Alvaro said hungrily against Isco's lips. He pulled Isco's shirt and he quickly discarded it as Alvaro moved on to the button of his jeans. He pulled them off too and Alvaro was jerking him off, pulling him closer against him and Isco was reaching for him too.

"Do it. Fuck me." Isco told him. Alvaro quickly got to his knees and they kissed like that, as they both moved to the side of the bed and Alvaro bent him over and pressed his swollen head against Isco's entrance. He pressed there, kissed Isco's shoulder. "I want you to leave a mark." Isco muttered as Alvaro lubed himself up quickly and pushed into him. He shoved backward to take him all the way and Alvaro pulled him back to meet him in the same motion. He thrust into him and they found a rhythm that was bordering on punishing. Alvaro planted his teeth on Isco's shoulder and he groaned, begged him to bite down. He thrust a few more times, leaving Isco's name against his skin and causing Isco to murmur Alvaro's name before he finally pressed his teeth into the soft flesh connecting Isco's shoulder with his neck. At the contact Isco shoved back hard, one arm reached back to clutch Alvaro by the small of his back, pull him deeper, closer, harder. When Alvaro finally bit into flesh it was with a moan and Isco had a handful of Alvaro's ass, holding him deep inside him, clenching around him as one of Alvaro's hand jerked him tightly and he came into his hand. Isco almost lost his balance and fell face first into his bed but he held fast as they both froze over the edge, the last of Alvaro's coming pulsating through them both, his fist stopping at the base of Isco's cock. He released his shoulder and kissed him just there, the aching sensitivity of it making Isco go weak, clenching his fist to brace himself on the bed.

Alvaro hugged him to him, his fingers skated across the planes of Isco's stomach and then his chest.

Isco squeezed his eyes shut, tried to hold onto that moment after as long as he could. But there was already a cold dread descending on him and above that white hot anger that things could never be so simple as a moment that felt so pure it should be permanent.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all the people who have been following this story and commenting on it: you all scared me off this chapter cause I already had it written and it's pretty much the opposite of what every single one of you said! Not sure if that's a bad thing or a good thing but it's just what it is I guess. I decided this is what had to happen regardless! Enjoy.

Álvaro stumbled a little as he pulled out of Isco, had to brace himself on the bed.

"Not the worst way to go." He said breathlessly. Isco, wrapping a towel around his waist, turned suddenly towards him.

"I'm serious. That was it. We're finished. It's not a fucking joke."

"What do I gotta do, Isc."

"Leave her." Isco said bluntly. He sat down on the bed and Álvaro sat beside him, his face sober now.

"It's not that simple."

"It's that simple. Do you love her?"

Álvaro didn't answer, just lay back on the bed, pulled Isco's shoulder so he lay beside him, some of his anger deflating as he stared up at the stucco ceiling.

"It's not that simple." Álvaro said again after a heavy silence.

"It's that simple Álvaro. You know what, I don't even care, it doesn't matter, we're done anyways. Never again." Isco insisted.

"Why do you care so much if I love her or not." Álvaro said quietly. Isco waited a few beats and then sat up and faced Álvaro. "Seriously, I don't get it, why do you care so much if I love her or I'm hurting her like any of it--"

"Because I love you, okay?" Isco cut him off fiercely. "There, I said it. I fucking love you, and the thought of you lying down next to her at night? It kills me." Álvaro went dead silent then, just stared up at Isco like his muscles were frozen. His lips parted slightly and he took one shallow breath. There was nothing in his expression. "And I don't care if you love her or not anyway, you know why? It doesn't matter." Isco straddled Álvaro now, the towel falling away, pressed his face into his neck and Álvaro finally moved, placed his hands on Isco's waist. Isco could feel him getting hard again. He was already hard. "It doesn't matter because she could never love you like I love you. Nobody means anything, not the way you mean to me. I know you feel the same way." He reached quickly for lube, nudged Álvaro's legs apart and pushed into him. Álvaro wrapped his legs around Isco, squeezed tight against the initial pressure, a small whine escaping him. He was watching Isco in this way he often did, this way that was usually infuriating to Isco but right now it was exactly what he wanted. "Nobody else will love you like this Álvaro. Nobody can do this." He thrust in and out, deep and steady, a way that drew a ragged grasp out of Álvaro and stopped his rant as he struggled to concentrate on what he was saying. He had thought that once he started saying it, so many ridiculous things would come out of his mouth, that he'd be professing how much he loved everything about Álvaro from the way he got clumsy and angry when he was nervous, to the way he laughed at the most inappropriate moments. Like how perfectly his hands looked touching any part of him. But instead he was dumbstruck, he lifted his head to check Álvaro's expression and he just nodded, rolled his hips into the rhythm of Isco.

"Even when I'm not there next to you, Álvy. I know you know that I care and I'm thinking of you. And that I understand you like nobody else can. You don't need anybody else. You have me. Forever and completely. You have me." He leaned over Álvaro and kissed him fiercely, and Álvaro kissed back through a moan.

"Wait," he mumbled, he pushed himself up on his elbows and they shifted so that Isco sat back on his heels and Álvaro hugged his arms around him as he took Isco inside him again. They both moaned and Isco's hips snapped forward as he slid all way inside. Álvaro reached back and grabbed Isco's ass, palms moving in slow circles. Isco held Álvaro at the elbow to keep him upright and tried to remember if he had more to say.

"I forgot what I was gunna say." Isco said sheepishly against Álvaro's collar.

"Isco." Álvaro began but it turned into a moan. He kissed him on the mouth and they got lost in the taste of each other and the rhythm of their thrusts and Isco's grip on Álvaro's elbow tightened. "Isco, you don't have to say anything. I know it all already." 

Isco had started on this path of changing the way they were with each other. Of taking what he wanted, of being honest and demanding and bold. But he wasn't any different. He was the same as he was 20 minutes ago, his heart locked in his chest and his fears gagging his tongue. So instead of asking Álvaro how it was for him, insisting he have him all to himself, he leaned forward so that Álvaro and Isco each had one hand braced on the bed, Isco still holding him steady at the elbow and he thrust into him and Álvaro groaned, a soft whine in the back of his throat that was wrecked and perfect and an urgency in the way his fingers clutched at the small of Isco's back that told him he was giving exactly what he needed. He kissed him, bit his swollen lips and their noses brushed as he pushed deep inside him so that Álvaro should have shied away from the pressure. But he didn't, he thrust back against him and they both moaned loudly as he started to tighten around Isco. Isco took his dick in his hand and just held it there so that Álvaro strained against him, his one free hand trying to pull Isco closer and he groaned as his cock jumped in Isco's palm. He was trembling and his movements were becoming jerky and laboured but Isco kept a steady rhythm as he thrust up into him even though his balls were tightening and the sensation was becoming overwhelming and his legs burned from the position.

"I am what you need." Isco said firmly as Álvaro cried out and spilled on Isco's fist and his thigh. Álvaro's body tightened and held Isco inside him as every pulse of his orgasm was absorbed. Álvaro stopped trying to hold himself up, arching, spine pulled taut as Isco leaned across him so he lay on flat on his back. They kissed like that, Isco quickly going soft inside of him before he finally pulled out. Álvaro was already practically asleep. His eyes snapped open momentarily as he felt Isco extricate himself from their tangle of limbs but then they fluttered shut again. Isco brushed his sweaty hair back from his forehead and kissed his brow before laying down next to him, draping an arm across his chest. Lazily, Álvaro's fingers clutched Isco's arm against him and he rolled on side, his forehead pressing into Isco's shoulder. His breathing dropped off into sleep and Isco lay staring at the ceiling, running a finger across Álvy's hip.

This was how it was always supposed to be.


	20. Chapter 20

A few hours later a clumsy goodbye was exchanged in Isco's foyer. It felt awkward to Álvaro because of the way Isco stilled when he pulled him against him. In the way they didn't say I love you. Álvaro had felt in the beginning like the word had been released, like it would never escape them again. He didn't realize until he was 36,000 feet above everything that he had never even said it back. He had felt it so completely in the way their lips brushed, in the feeling of this intense ache that had come to a rest somewhere in his navel, lingering there long after he had felt it peak with Isco still inside him, the way they held each other close long afterwards listening to their own shallow breathing slow, that it hadn't occurred to him that he should say it too.

And then just a few hours after that he was on his own doorstep, contemplating what could happen next. He unlocked the door and walked into an empty house. He thought she had gone. But then he saw a note on the table and without unpacking, without even taking off his coat, while the feeling of Isco was still deep inside him and close to his chest, he fell into a seat at his kitchen table and waited there for her to come home.

A few hours after that he was on the phone to Isco, his breath caught at the sound of his voice, the feeling in his gut a jagged ache that missed Isco, that missed home. 

"Isco."

He sighed across the line, as if he knew already exactly what he would say. "That sounds like bad news." He said flatly. "Sounds like an occupied house."

The phrase evaded him once again but he thought it half a dozen times in the span of their silence. "She wants to stay until the holidays." He began instead. He had glossed over his feelings, had muffled the sigh, the exhale of relief that his presence brought.

"I see." Isco said, although Álvaro didn't know how he could possibly see anything at all. He thought of all the things Isco said to him and reminded himself that they must still be true.

"I can't just kick her out Isc. It has to happen quietly. I--I told her that we can talk about things after the season ends, but that I'd chosen you."

"But not my name." There hadn't been a single thing in Isco's voice to suggest what he was thinking since he picked up the phone.

"How can I tell her this?" 

"Does she think you'll change your mind?"

"I won't." The silence between them was exhausting. Álvaro circled warily around things he could say, things he shouldn't say, and things he couldn't. 

"I guess there's nothing else for it." Isco said slowly.

"When May ends I will return to Madrid and she will pack her things and return as well. And that's when everything will be finished. If she leaves now she'll be hounded by the press and I'll have post-match interviews trying to answer in by deplorable Italian why I'm now a confirmed bachelor." Finally Isco giggled, a smile stretched across Álvaro's face almost painfully. He fidgeted with the sashes on a couch cushion as more things he could say came closer to the tip of his tongue.

"We should go away somewhere." Isco said quietly and Álvaro's heart beat painfully in his chest and for once he wasn't in a hurry to try to appease Isco, to fix things, and he relaxed into the sofa and daydreamed of a day trip or even a few nights somewhere that no one would know their names.

"We will." He promised. It wasn't much, but the silence was amenable and it felt like the word wasn't escaping them, that it was floating there between them, reminiscent of lazy waves on some beach somewhere. A quiet, baby blue oasis where they'll spread towels in the sand and absent-mindedly brush their hands across each other, as soft as the wind playing across their skin and the sun kissing their faces. Play on the beach and find themselves inside each other in the night, lost to velvety black starless skies and feeling that nothing else exists and nothing else has to. He didn't say I love you but they felt it there and that was enough. Everything was coming together finally and it would only be a few weeks before the image became reality. When they said goodnight the words were heavy and Isco giggled again and it felt exactly like he was getting things right for once.

The next morning Juventus drew Real Madrid in the Champions League semi-Final.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh how I've missed you all and I appreciate the patience. And yes, Alvaro is profoundly inept at this. It hurts me too.
> 
> Y'all let me write CL final on there for months. Wishful thinking I guess.


	21. The End is the Beginning is the End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arrogant boy. Love yourself so no one has to.  
> You may have dreamed of something larger than life  
> But everything now is gold and white.

His body hummed, vibrating with an anger that clenched his fists over the table and had Vito casting furtive glances at this boy frozen next to her. Álvaro was right across the table but he felt a million miles away and to Isco it was infuriating.

Why had he agreed to go to lunch with the four of them? Better yet, why had he organized it himself? What a terrible idea, he should have believed Álvy. Álvy, who was staring down at the dark polished table top, eyebrows pulled together as he contemplated the napkin and was entirely lost to the world. 

"It's so strange, don't you think, Isco, that you and Álvaro have been friends for so long, but this is only our second time meeting?"

"Strange, yes. It's almost as if he was hiding me from you." Álvaro looked up and glared at the dry tone in Isco's voice. "I guess I'm just not important to him."

"When are we ever in Madrid to arrange something like this?" Álvaro gestured across the table, eyes wide with annoyance, before he dropped his gaze again. "Besides, you are always so busy seeing all of your friends whenever we come home, Maria." Álvaro finished quietly.

"And you really must come along with me next time, Vito. I think you'd love it! Give Isco Jr. to Isco for the night and come have a night with the girls!"

"That sounds lovely." Vito said, as she shifted her drink to make room for the food being brought to the table. Álvaro and Isco accidentally locked gazes while the waiter was between them placing down their food. Álvaro narrowed his eyes as if warning Isco to behave and Isco had to conceal a scoffing noise with a cough.

"I'd love to have a boys' night in with Junior. Speaking of babies, Maria --" 

"Isco!" Álvaro and Vito at the exact same moment. Vito's eyes flashed a warning at Isco while Álvaro sloshed water as he forcefully grabbed his glass from the table. Maria sniffled. Isco raised his arms to protest his innocence.

"Alright, alright." He muttered quietly. But the damage was done. As the waiter placed a plate in front of Maria and withdrew she was staring aghast between Vito and Álvaro, her eyes suddenly very red around the rims, her mouth a round yet oddly dangerous looking 'o'. Álvaro was concentrated on his plate, forehead wrinkles visible to show his frown. Vito was watching Maria with some level of alarm.

"Maria--" Vito began but Maria interrupted her.

"It's you, isn't it?" She said slowly. That finally caught Álvaro's attention. 

"You couldn't keep your mouth shut for 10 minutes could you." He spat, cutting an equal parts nervous and furious glance at Isco.

"Isco?" Vito said slowly. Everyone turned to Isco next. His heart thudded against his ribcage. He locked eyes with Álvaro and clenched his jaw stubbornly, but his gaze softened when a look of hurt crossed Álvaro's expression before he averted his gaze back to the table. He picked up his utensils and cut rather furiously into his meat.

"You knew?" Maria said to Isco, and that stopped his racing mind short.

"I-Uh--Did I know--?" He realized too late what she was asking. He took a deep breath, pleaded with his eyes for Victoria to go along with what he said next but Maria had already turned angry eyes to Álvaro. 

"The mother of his child, Álvaro, really? You would do this to your best friend? The greatest friend you ever had, how many times have you told me that? I never thought you would ever sink to--" 

"It's not Vito." Álvaro said quietly but firmly. The room went silent but for the clinking of cutlery at tables in the next room. The parlour was empty apart from them and it thrummed with a charged silence as they all stared at Álvaro with differing levels of confusion scattered across their expressions. 

"What do you mean it's not Vito, you're going to lie to my face now, after everything? Álvaro, clearly--"

"I said it's not her. This is what you wanted, isn't it, Isco." Álvaro said loudly. He dropped his cutlery to his plate and managed a slight nod of the head as he excused himself.

"Isco." Vito said again but he couldn't understand why, all he could do was watch Álvaro leave. 

"Oh my god." Maria said quietly. He finally looked at her. She was staring at him, her napkin pressed to her mouth. "It's you." She practically whispered. 

"Excuse me, I think I'd better--" He began as he stood. Everything felt hollow and irreparable. All he could think about was Álvaro panicking alone. Because of him. "I'm--it's--I have to go after him." Vito nodded in encouragement and got up to sit next to Maria. He knew there were a thousands reasons he shoud stay. That he needed to find the right words for Maria to make all of this okay but the only thing he could stand right now was putting it right with Álvaro. Making sure he was okay.

Isco weaved through the tables in the next room and burst into a darklit hallway painted all in polished black. He glanced around as he quickly crossed the room and didn't see anyone. He approached the flatiron railing to the exit and peered down into the stairwell. The flashing red exit sign was visible 4 floors down and he heard no movement below. He was about to descend when he heard his name. He turned to find Álvaro perched on a flatiron chair of spray painted twisted black metal not dissimilar to the metal of the stairwell. He took a few steps towards him but planted his feet a distance away. That was about as close as he got to holding his ground.

"Álvaro, I'm so sorry. I never meant for any of that. I swear. I was being foolish and selfish." Isco's own fear bubbled past his lips, he felt something building at the pit of his stomach as he considered the reaction Vito was probably dealing with in the next room. Overwhelmed by the idea of Maria thinking of everything that happened behind her back, all of the intimate moments between them twisting into disgusting acts of betrayal. He felt guilty, tainted.

"It's okay." Álvaro said quietly, he rested his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands, watching Isco thoughtfully. There must have been something frantic breeaking through to Isco's expression but Álvaro looked oddly calmly. "Now she finally knows. It's like a weight has been lifted." He beckoned Isco to him and he went obediently, pausing in front of him before Álvaro pulled him into a kiss. It was slow and languid and felt, not for the first time, an awful lot like forever. Isco's stomach twisted again. 

"You're not scared she'll tell the world?" Isco said when they broke apart, casting a wide-eyed look around the room despite already knowing they were completely alone. Álvaro shifted so Isco was standing between his legs, pulling him closer, hands pressing against his lower back, thumbs rubbing across his hips.

"No." He said simply. He leaned in, pressing his forehead into Isco's t-shirt and finally Isco reacted, one hand smoothing Álvaro's hair back from his forehead, remaining there, knuckles strained as he wrapped his fingers around thick tufts of his hair. Álvaro sighed contentedly.

"But you said--" 

"Things are different now. I think she will understand." But Isco didn't. Álvaro stood then, pulled Isco into his arms, a hug that was more reassuring than any embrace they had ever had. Isco's heart beat hard in his chest, either from panic or something deeper.

"If you say so." He said eventually.

"It feels different now, don't you think?" Álvaro said against Isco's hair. Isco looked up at him then and Álvaro broke for a moment. Something in Álvaro's expression betrayed the fear behind his eyes. He scrubbed a hand across his face as if to wipe it all away, but he couldn't wipe the frown away fast enough. "Now things will have to change." He said, voice breaking a little.

"Álvaro..." Isco began, but Álvaro interrupted.

"Don't. Let's just appreciate what we have for now. Tomorrow we play for our lives."

Isco finally felt it there in Álvaro's heart racing against his collarbone. He was afraid. Afraid of everything. Afraid of playing against everything he loved for so long. Afraid of the next time he meets eyes with Maria and what he will see there. Afraid it will change the way he feels. Afraid it will make him lose it all. What Isco had thought was the calm of acceptance was the calm of an animal cornered, preparing itself for one last desperate fight. Preparing for the storm about to hit.

Isco felt all of that like the flash of a sword across his chest, a red ribbon across his skin and slicing pain. But when the sword had left his flesh it was like everything was still held in place by sheer habit, exactly as it was before, unaware it had just been cut in half. He inhaled heavily and couldn't even feel the wound. 

Álvaro and Isco broke apart and Álvaro silently walked to the stairs and with one last warm, practically apologize glance, he left.

Isco contemplated the contraerity of forever feeling almost identical to goodbye. And the duality of it probably being neither. They would be shaking hands this time tomorrow, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I did that thing again. I betrayed you all with my absence. Writing is hard sometimes. It's sad to be writing about the pair of them when they are currently worlds away.


	22. Chapter 22

He should have felt guilty going to Maria's house after the week they had given her. He should have felt the loss deeper in his bones. He should have felt a lot of things but all he could really feel was the beating of his heart all the way to the tips of his fingers.

"Come see my place." Álvaro had begged him after the match. High on adrenaline, all bright eyed and bouncing, something manic gleaming beneath the surface. Isco didn't even consider saying no. He didn't even ask where Maria was. He just went.

They sat in Álvaro's living room, which didn't look at all like what Isco imagined when they spoke on the phone. For one thing, the couch was long enough to fit Álvaro comfortably. He could easily use it as a bed. Maybe he does. They sprawl across it now, a friendly distance away but the looks they are exchanging cross the boundary of friendship maybe a little bit. 

"So what do you think?" Álvaro asks him, nudging his thigh with the tip of his toes. Isco runs his fingers through his beard as he considers an answer.

"You have a home here, Álvy." He replies. Álvaro nods and they both go quiet. Álvaro's dog is wedged between Álvaro's knees and the sofa, and if Isco reaches he can run his hand across its back. The dog doesn't even react when he pets it's back stiffly. His dogs go wild whenever anyone gives them the smallest bit of attention. He imagines this uneasy, coarse haired temperamental thing against Messi and Figo. They'd eat this dog alive. Álvaro scoops the dog up and it doesn't protest as he sets it on the ground and uses the heel of his hand to scoot it away. The dog gives him a look before padding out of the room.

"And the match?" Isco immediately remembers the look on Álvaro's face when they reached each other in the opening line. His quick hug and the fact that of all his former friends and colleagues he had chosen Isco to break the wall for. After everything they had together it shouldn't have made him feel special but it did. Like he hadn't expected it and had been given a gift.

"It was a close game. We are well matched." Isco replied. Álvaro nodded again, pensive and proud. His goal had been the difference between the teams. Nobody within the Madrid locker room mentioned that it would have been a difference to their side this time last year, but they were all thinking it. All the tabloids would be calling it Morata's revenge.

For Isco's part in the defeat he let himself be drawn into Álvaro's arms. He let himself be kissed and licked and nipped and quietly but fiercely returned the affection. He felt like a trophy as he let himself be fucked by a triumphant Álvaro, for the moment all realities of their situation forgotten and only the heat of victory to set his movements on fire. They were both quiet as Álvaro pushed inside him, as Isco rocked back into him and Álvaro sucked his neck hard enough it felt like he woud draw blood. He held himself together as long as he could but when Álvaro groaned against his shoulder, hand cupping him gently, he fell apart all at once. When he came it felt like Isco was giving something away, was conceding what was owed the man who had brought them to their knees today. 

When the orgasm wore down they remained there on their knees, Álvaro clutching Isco's back to his bare chest, nose pressed against his neck.

They didn't say the words, but it felt like love. It also felt like losing.


	23. Chapter 23

At the end of the season they had all fought hard but endings are inevitable and victory is not for everyone.

For Isco victory was a complete absence in his life, for Álvaro he had it in leaps and bounds, though the UCL would be sorely missed. They could both exit the competition feeling they had fought valiantly.

Isco and his Madrid fell to Juventus in the second leg, a bittersweet tie that was put to death by a second goal by Álvaro, an away goal at his Bernabeu and a knife to the heart of his former current captain. It was a poetic victory and one that Isco felt terrible about. If he was honest, so did Álvaro. But some terrible things were terribly good in their own way.

Falling to Barcelona in the end was a different type of poetry and Álvaro's ballad concluded with bitter tears and a war ending with battles won and trophies lost. 

He packed a few bags and left Turin for the summer, returning to his former glory carrying with him a glory he had recently forged all his own. It was with his chest held high demanding respect that he landed in Madrid and was greeted by his sister and rest of his family. Maria returned home on the same flight after saying goodbye to her home in Turin forever. They had few words for each other.

In fact, Álvaro had few words for anyone.

He turned up on Isco's doorstep one day, a slight breeze ruffling his cream coloured shorts, threatening to disarrange the sharp flick of his forever dishevelled hair, his dark t-shirt clinging to his chest. Isco had had a quiet few days, with Vito in and out of Madrid; quiet afternoons letting his son fall asleep in his arms as he paced across the kitchen. Drooling down the back of his shirt as Isco held him there fast asleep and completely relaxed. The quiet baby noises colouring his first few days off with a placid contentedness; the heat of a Madrid summer pulling the days long and idle and restful. If Isco didn't know better he would have felt at peace.

Álvaro on his doorstep was a break in the day. He had gotten comfortable with the mononity his holiday was taking on and was taken aback by this sudden interruption. Álvaro bared his teeth at him, a slow smile that asked so many things. Isco perched in the doorway, unsure whether he was meant to invite Álvaro in. He felt needle pricks up and down his arms at the memory of them holding Álvaro, and an ache to do so now. 

Behind Isco down the hallway, small baby steps shuffled along the wall. Isco Junior called out to him, a gurgling giggle. They both turned to watch as he took one step away from the safety of the wall, and then another. He stood, balancing precariously in the middle of the corridor. Shook a tiny fist at Álvaro. Called Isco once more before he tried to step again and his legs gave out from under him. When he landed on his bum he giggled.

Isco gestured for Álvaro to come in and crossed the hallway to scoop up his son. Álvaro tentatively followed him, smiling nervously at the small boy watching him.

"He's so big now." Álvaro murmurred. He slipped off his shoes and pressed up against Isco, bending so the baby was at eye level. The baby leaned away. Somewhere in the depths of the house the phone rang.

"Is Vito home?"

"No. That's probaby her. Can you hold this?" Isco asked, already placing the baby in Álvaro's arms. Álvaro held him delicately at arm's length, and Junior kicked his legs in the air. He made one small gurgling noise and stuck out his tongue as if teasing Álvaro for his discomfort. Álvaro snickered. Like father, like son. He held Junior against his chest and the baby rested his chin on Álvaro's shoulder and went limp there against him. Álvaro felt the warmth of Junior's body against his own and he was reminded of holding his own nephew. He paced across the corridor and into the den, bouncing a little with each step. Isco Junior made small noises against his shoulder. 

By the time Isco returned the baby was asleep. They tried to be unobtrusive as they exchanged the baby until finally Isco led Álvaro to the baby's crib in Isco's room. He placed him down on his back and the baby whined and turned his head and wriggled a little but didn't seem to wake up completely. Isco leaned across Álvaro to press a hand across the baby's forehead before they tiptoed out of the room. 

In the hall, Álvaro backed Isco against the wall, pressed his face into the same spot on his shoulder where Isco Junior had rested and breathed him in. Isco rested his hands loosely on Álvaro hips, then let them drift, pressing two fingers against the dimples on his lower back, following the ridges of his spine up to his shoulder blades. He hugged him tight against him, let some of the tension drop out of him. He sighed quietly, the peace that had been threatening him for days settling in his spine where Álvaro held him firmly against the wall.

The silence stretched on. It felt like Álvaro would fall asleep there against his chest. He felt the peace and quiet ebb and flow as a few thoughts warred with his mind, a battle to reach his lips.

"Maria..." He mumbled finally.

"Everything is okay. She won't tell anyone. She's a kind woman." Álvaro murmured, resting his cheek on Isco's shoulder, rocking slightly as one hand smoothed down the edges of Isco's shirt, traced the line of his jeans against his skin. Isco muttered a noncommital sound in response. The minutes ticked by and he started to get restless.

"Now what?"

"You said we'd get away." Álvaro reminded him. 

And so they did.


	24. 5

They woke up in a tent. It was stifling hot, the type of humidity that makes it hard to breathe. It was disorienting, waking up in a position that felt like upside down, the scent of Álvaro overwhelming, all tangled up in him. He woke up practically gasping, his limbs trying to throw the coccoon of blankets off himself to breathe, but all in a semi-sleeping state, like he still hadn't fully emerged into the morning, still hadn't fully processed where he was.

Then he turned and saw Álvaro smiling a little vacantly at him and he forgot all about the shock of waking up. Álvaro kissed him languorously, deep and slow, his body shifting closer to Isco. Isco did the same, shoving blankets out of the way to close the space between them. Pulling at cloth damp with sweat, Álvaro's skin like fire beneath his palm. Álvaro reached down, took him in his hand right away, stroked him so his breath caught between their lips. Isco shoved himself up against Álvaro and he was already sliding his pants down over his thighs, tugging at Isco to do the same. In a fit of confusion Isco had to sit up to find his way under the sheets to properly pull down his boxers and Álvaro kissed his forearm while he waited, then his shoulder, then his neck. All the while helping Isco yank down his boxers and stroking him aggressively, urgently as soon as they managed the task. 

Isco was on top of Álvaro, kissing him insistently, nudging him so he would spread his legs, which was another small struggle. Finally Isco dragged all the blankets away, heaping them at the foot of the mattress. Álvaro pulled Isco's hands up his shirt as he wrapped his legs around his waist. Isco pushed Álvaro's hair back from his face and kissed his forehead. Álvaro buried his face into Isco's neck as he pushed into him, making a small noise somewhere between a sob and a moan, his hips bucking to accommodate him. And then Isco was pushing into him slow but deep, and the only noise was their breathing and the swish of the tent fabric as Álvaro was shifted backwards, the back of his head rubbing against it. He didn't seem to notice, his eyes clamped shut, frantic kisses across Isco's lips, tongue licking messily into Isco's mouth.

The first time Isco felt Álvaro's muscles start to tense, with Álvaro squeezing his upper arm he stopped moving inside of him, and broke off the kiss, looking down from overtop of him. Álvaro opened his eyes and looked up at Isco pleadingly and his body squeezed around Isco enough to make him gasp but Álvaro's hand was gripped tight around his own dick and he wasn't coming. After a second he mumbled incoherently, rolled his hips for Isco to continue. Isco's arms were shaking from heat and exhaustion and the effort of holding himself so still and he ducked his head to kiss Álvaro again. Álvaro pulled him so that he gave up holding himself up and used his knees to thrust but without much success. His rhythm became clumsy and he wasn't able to push as deep. But Álvaro was already sensitive and when Isco stroked him he whined and after just a few jerks Álvaro's hand shot down to grip himself and Isco had to stop again with Álvaro breathing in such heavy gasps he thought maybe he was coming. After a few seconds Álvaro opened his eyes, in his most lucid state yet, his pupils blown but a sly smile tugging at the corners of his lips, Isco ascertained that he had managed to keep control a second time. 

They switched positions, Isco lay on his back and Álvaro mounted him, pulling one of the blankets up over his waist as he did. He sat down on Isco's cock to the hilt, making Isco groan his name. He lifted up and sank back down again, tilting his hips as he did. Isco felt the heat of everything pooling in his gut but he didn't want it to end yet. He held Álvaro's hips in his hand as Álvaro picked up a rhythm, each breath bringing with it a moan, his cock throbbing and dripping precome across Isco's bare stomach. The sound of skin slapping against skin, Álvaro's moans and the heat and dripping sweat was shattering Isco's self control. He ran shaky hands through Álvaro's hair plastered to his forehead, he opened his eyes and smiled idly down at Isco, then glanced away, self conscious still. Isco ran his hand across Álvaro's cheek, his lips, let one finger slip into his mouth. Álvaro sucked on the digit then, his teeth scraping lightly across the pad of Isco's thumb. Isco said his name again, hoarsely, like couldn't help himself. Álvaro watched him again, sat down hard, took all of Isco inside of him, splaying his palms across Isco's chest for added pressure.

"Oh god, Álvaro." Isco moaned, shoving the blanket aside to watch Álvaro's hips move, he didn't complain, his eyes were closed again and he reached down to grip the base of his cock to try to stop himself from coming. His thrust was becoming stuttered, Isco thrust his hips up to meet him and Álvaro groaned, gripped himself tighter. "I'm close." Isco told him and Álvaro, eyes clamped shut, nodded. "I want you to come first." Isco told him. "Touch yourself." Isco demanded. They stopped moving for a moment, the sensitivity almost too much for Isco, he paused on the very cusp, tried not to move at all, thought he would die if he lost now. When he finally nodded Álvaro shifted so he was holding himself up over Isco and Isco started a quick thrust into Álvaro, the staccato slap of skin on skin faster, louder. Álvaro wrapped his fist around his own cock and stroked himself in time with Isco, his other hand found Isco's nipple as Isco's hands squeezed Álvaro's ass.

Álvaro leaned across Isco, kissing him hard, lips bumping against his as Isco thrust hard inside of him. Isco's tongue darted into Álvaro's mouth and he sucked on it, his hand around himself stroking faster. He moaned Isco's name around his tongue and Isco's felt his come in warm ribbons across his stomach. A few thrusts later and he came too, groaning as exhaustion hit him almost as soon as he felt the orgasm hit. Álvaro sat down with Isco still inside him and the sensitivity was overwhelming, making Isco moan again, his cock jumping, balls tightening. They kissed a while longer as Isco softened inside of him, the stickiness of Álvaro between their stomachs and sweat and humid air welding everything together as one. Álvaro pressed more kisses against Isco's chest, small "I love you"'s scattered across his skin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter...had a publication date of May 9th, 2015 because that's when I started writing it. Yikes. I'm really sorry everyone, I have about 6 chapters like this that I just haven't woven into the story. I always say I want to stay on top of this one but it gets away from me.


End file.
